


Tiger By My Side: World Rocking Edition

by Neurodolphin



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Character Study, Companionable Snark, Dialogue Heavy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:02:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 81,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26287663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neurodolphin/pseuds/Neurodolphin
Summary: Commander Shepard isn't one to be confused. However, after the events on the remote colony of Horizon, she has no choice but to accept the things she does not want to face, and have the courage to start life anew. (Begins in ME2) (Complete and total rewrite of TBMS)
Relationships: Jeff "Joker" Moreau/Female Shepard
Comments: 56
Kudos: 42





	1. Tachyons

**Author's Note:**

> This is an entirely new revision and rewrite of the Tiger By My Side fanfiction. The original was published in 2010, under the writer name Introjection on FFnet.  
> The story begins during the Mass Effect 2 era.  
> Chapters, especially the intro, are subject to change.  
> Some chapters have associated illustrations! Links will be provided in the chapter's header.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story begins with Shepard needing to have a friendly, informal little chat.

" _People will talk_

_Saying, it's not meant to be_

_But I think that we know differently"_

_\- Elizabeth Daily, Mind Over Matter_

_“Captain, I’m picking up a tachyon surge… I think whoever’s in the shuttle is trying to trigger the transwarp conduit,” said the crewman, his eyepiece glinting in the warm, even light of the ship’s bridge. A bearded officer appeared onscreen, dressed in a red and black uniform. He turned to his right, ordering,_

_“Can you see who’s on board?”_

The image filled up with static, duplicating, flipping and becoming distorted before dissolving completely, its audio echoing.

_“-- have to find him.”_

“Aw man, get the feed back!” Joker exclaimed, sitting up and tapping a few commands on a glowing orange console, bringing up a diagnostics window. A blue glow appeared off to his left.

“I am attempting to isolate the frequency, Mr Moreau.”

“Yeah, you better,” he replied, “They mentioned tachyons. Gotta keep my list current.”

“Tachyons are mentioned by the same character six times in this episode, Mr Moreau.”

“ _Spoilers_ , EDI!” He cried. “I need to find out what happens with the transwarp conduit! _Normal_ subspace limitations don’t apply to those variables, after all.”

The image flared back to life, depicting the same characters as before.

_“I’ve set up a temporary tachyon matrix in the main deflector. I think I can use it to simulate the pulse sent by the shuttle.”_

“Yessss,” Joker said. “Gimme those sweet tachyons.” Glancing sidelong at the clock, he settled back into his seat. The stars overhead pulling by at a hypnotic, glacial pace, he thought,

_Sleep is for the weak when this is on._

A green light flicked on. Tapping it by reflex before even consciously registering the idea, the words were already at his lips,

“Yes, Commander?”

“Joker.”

_Oh. That’s not a good tone._

“Cockpit is closed,” she said, “You were due for relief hours ago. I’ve sent Harrison up.”

“Sta--”

“Right _now,_ ” she interrupted, her tone hard. “I’m _not_ going to tell you a second time.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he replied. There was a couple seconds’ pause. “Anything else I can -”

“Look… I know what’s on,” she interrupted. Detecting in her voice what he could have sworn was a hint of sheepishness, he asked,

“Wait. You do?”

“Yeah. I get it. Stop by the Mess and wait for me. I have something for you,” she said, the hard edge evaporating from her voice, something somewhat conciliatory there instead.

“Sure thing, Ma’am.”

Stepping into the Mess Hall squinting, Shepard grimaced, her eyes adjusting to the stark lighting, contrasting with the dim ambiance of the cockpit.

“You know, I think it’s going to take some time for me to get used to this. The old ship wasn’t lit so bright,” she said, holding her Omnitool up to a small locker set in the wall. “This feels a little bit more…”

“... Like a hospital?” Joker offered, taking care in placing his weight on just one leg, stretching.

“I was going to say _austere_ , but come to think of it, yes.” She replied, placing a thin silver can next to his hand. “I think we’re both a little too familiar with that kind of environment. Ah well. Looks like we have the place to ourselves.”

Joker picked up the can, brushing away the thin layer of condensation with his thumb.

“Doesn’t look the same as last time, no label. What is this?”

“It’s poison,” she replied, green eyes flashing as she took a can in hand herself, cracking it open. “Drink it.”

“If it’s not beer, then I don’t want it.” He said, grumbling, making a show of pushing it to the side.

“You _must_ be tired. What do you take me for? Drink it, you ingrate,” she said over her shoulder, collecting several more of the cans into the crook of her arm before bumping the locker shut with her elbow. “I don’t share my private stores with every Tom, Dick and Harry that comes in here.”

The light clink of her first can onto the metal table betrayed its emptiness. Raising an eyebrow, he shot her a sceptical look.

“One down before you’re even at the table. It’s that kind of night, huh?” He said with a wry smile. Sitting across from him, they both cracked a can at the same time, Shepard’s eyes on him with a look he found difficult to place.

“It becomes _that kind of night_ when I have to personally come to remind my Helmsman to get off his shift.” She said, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. Shifting in his seat, he necked the entire can without saying a word, giving himself time to think. “Listen,” she said, gesturing to the ship around them, “I know she’s your baby, and you love her. But you already regularly take double shifts. How’s Harrison meant to learn anything when you’re up there sixteen, eighteen hours out of every day? I know you too well to expect an apology, but I shouldn’t need to remind _you_ that a tired pilot is a _dead_ pilot.”

Placing his empty can down, he could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks, the effects of a curiously strong drink on an empty stomach. Finding himself unable to quite manage looking up at her, from a stolen glance he could see similar effects creeping across her features, too. The sharp crack of opening yet another can breaking what was beginning to feel like an eternity of silence between them, she asked,

“Why _do_ you stay up so late?”

“Why do you wanna save the galaxy?” He retorted.

She slid her elbows forward onto the table, cupping her chin in her hands and replying,

“Because… I like… Ex-Existing? Generally.”

“Well, I like flying. More than generally.” He said, starting to feel the hours weighing on him, his eyelids growing heavy, and a pleasant warmth settling in his belly. “Hey, where’d you get this stuff?”

“Mm, it hits hard and kinda sudden, doesn’t it? I got it last time we were on The Citadel. It’s beer, but it’s also got a bit of ryncol in it I think. Some krogan guy at a shop gave it to me because... of… Uh. There was a reason? But ask me tomorrow.” She explained, her nose wrinkling in a lopsided, mischievous grin. At first finding himself returning it, the expression faded as he thought, 

_Wow. A genuine smile? Kind of a rare thing to see these days._

“Hey!” She exclaimed, making him startle. “Sorry. Hey,” she repeated, lowering her voice. “I’m off-duty, inasmuch as that’s _possible_ for me… We’re not in the Alliance anymore --”

“Hence the beer.” He interrupted, holding it up as if to punctuate his point.

“Yes, hence the beer,” She agreed, continuing on, “So I’m speaking to you as a friend. I really hate telling you off. Don’t make me do it again. You should make sure you get enough sleep. Okay?”

“Yeah, well, _you_ should bring less giant krogan babies on board, and way more asari.” He replied, lifting the brim of his cap and leaning in on the table himself. Taking care to catch his gaze and to hold it, with a soft smile, she said,

“Mhmm. I’m serious.”

“Uh, yeah, so am I.”

There was something glimmering deep within those green eyes looking back at him that was making him slow down and linger, keeping him from pulling back even when he could feel her elbow brushing his arm. They were leaning in a little closer than he had at first realised. _Maybe this is the beer talking? I never had the chance to see this close up before, but…_

“You… Wow, you really do have beautiful eyes.” 

The way she pulled back, tilting her head and blinking in surprise brought him crashing back to reality, fumbling the can. _Fuck. Ah, wait. No, no wait. That was out loud! Think of something. Say something. Anything!_

“Uh,” he stammered, lacking a rejoinder. “I-”

“Ah, I have to… I still need to disassemble my rifle and clean it. Before I sleep. Before tomorrow. I’ll see you tomorrow? It doesn’t, uh, take much of this stuff to sweep - er, _knock_ me off my feet.” She said, pushing up from the table, her brows knitting together in concentration.

“Yeah. I’m not going anywhere, Commander. At least, nowhere far, you know,” he replied, tapping his leg, wincing as he tried to keep up the appearance of a good-natured grin. “Goodnight.”

_Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck._


	2. Fire in Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joker has an unpleasant memory surface in the form of a recurrent nightmare. Shepard's mission on Illium doesn't quite go to plan.

_ “A thousand miles an hour, how does it feel? _

_ A million horsepower, no steering wheel _

_ Running off the shoulder, asleep on the stage _

_ Exposing cold steel, fire, beauty and rage _

_ Your ship is sinking, let me climb aboard _

_ The flame’s burning higher, oh my Lord” _

_The Midnight, Night Skies_

Opening his eyes, the bleary, orange images of diagnostic panels clarified, filling his entire field of vision. Blinking warnings almost faster than he could read, reams of information were pouring in from all sections of the ship. Grunting with irritation and flicking them out of view, he set about trying to get into the sensor readouts, but more and more dialogues were appearing just as fast as he could bypass them. Struggling to hear his own thoughts over the blaring of the general alarm and twisting, rending metal, he grabbed the emergency breather mask, slapping it down over his face. The clear steel mask fastened together with a heavy clunk, the sounds of the ship venting her atmosphere becoming more muted and giving him time to think. 

A peculiar feeling of déjà vu washed over him as he felt, rather than heard, the escape pod drives spin up, what was left of the floor reverberating painfully through his frail legs as each pod burst free.

His fingers flew over the displays, endless course corrections lifting the ship’s nose just clear of the planet’s horizon.

_If I can keep her angled like this, I can save her. The shields will get her through re-entry._ With that thought on repeat, he kept on trying, even through feeling the _SSV_ _Normandy_ shudder, dying beneath his hands like a great beast struggling to breathe. 

“I know,  _ I know! _ ” He snapped towards the proximity sensors, bleeping in his periphery about the enemy bearing down.

Something else appearing at the corner of his eye made him twist to see, the sight of it flooding him again with that sensation of having been here, having lived in this moment before. Recognising Shepard’s gloved hand clamping around his seat’s headrest, he protested in desperation although for some reason, the words falling out of his mouth towards her felt indistinct, as if in another language half-remembered. Staring into the flickering lights of helm control, all at once the delusions slipped away, leaving him cold as the darkness around them.

A familiar dull ache spread through his arm, the pain of an old break reawakening with her heaving him out of the seat to buttress him with her own body. Flames, burning so hot they were eating the metal, were rolling in silence. No alarm, no crackling hum of the biotic field sealing the cockpit from the naked vacuum of space, only the rasping of his own hard breath and the thumping of Shepard’s magboots on the grating.

_ Be gentle, dammit! _ He thought, gritting his teeth through the pain as she rolled him free from her shoulder, shoving him in hard through the door. Nauseous from the sudden shock of being wrested free from gravity’s hold, he wasn’t looking at her when the beam hit, his numb fingers fumbling with the buckles on his harness.

Shepard’s back hit a wall, stunning her even as decompression blew her backwards in a lazy arc out toward open space. His outstretched arm meeting with nothing, he began casting about for a tether... For something, anything to throw to her.

_ Okay, okay, it’s okay, I can get you, there’s a fire hose up in the compartment, I just have to-- _

Thrown back against the bars of the seat’s harness, he looked up just in time to see the hatch slamming down, shutting out another blast of plasma so hot, the air in his lungs burned, even through the pod’s walls. Blinded with afterimages, and straining in vain against the belts keeping him down, his cry out caught in his throat as the engines engaged, knocking the wind from him.

“Shepard, no!  _ No, no, please, no! _ ”

Snapping awake only to be greeted by the inky blackness of the bedboard above him, Joker slid his hands up over his face, holding them there and letting out a long, voiceless sigh through his teeth. Lying there with his thin, damp shirt clinging to his clammy skin, he felt a little bit worse with each deep breath taken, following the advice of some article on the extranet, for what little good it seemed to be doing. Some moments passed, and peeking through his fingers as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he could see Kelly Chambers, peering back at him from the bunk across the aisle.

“Hey,” she whispered. Sneering and pretending not to hear, he pulled the scratchy blanket up to his shoulders before turning his back to her. “Hey.” She said, trying again a little louder this time.

“Show’s over. Go back to sleep, Chambers.” He hissed, but lay wide awake, staring at the wall.

“... You really should talk about it with somebody,” she said, keeping her voice low.

“Goodnight.”

“Come on, Joker. Every single night it’s the same exact thing.” She said. He could hear her sheets scuffling as she propped herself up on her elbow, leaning out into the walkway. Her voice was always so soothing, so disarming, and  _ loathsome.  _

“It was just a dream.  _ Good. Night _ ,” he insisted, trying to convince himself as much as her, fighting to keep his voice to a whisper.

“Yes, yes, I understand… But, hey, if you won’t do it for yourself, then do it for  _ me? _ I haven’t had a good night’s sleep either since my bunk got put next to yours,” she explained, exasperation creeping into her voice. “I know you’re not big into being friendly with me, and that’s totally okay. But please, do me a favour, and just  _ talk about it _ .”

“None of your business. Sleep!”

“I don’t mean to  _ me _ , silly. To  _ her _ . You talk in your sleep, Joker. I can  _ hear _ you,” Kelly whispered, her mattress creaking and the sheets rustling as she lay back down, leaving him alone once more with his thoughts.

The backs of his eyelids were always playing the same old scenes, over and over again. Trying yet again to sleep, he could not help but watch the sequence of events unfurling just as they had done years before.

_ A career of good decisions doesn’t really matter much in the face of a colossally stupid one like that,  _ he thought, his stomach turning as the memories surfaced in perfect detail; Shepard reaching out, her black armour painted orange by the flames, body encircled by stars as she was blown out into space.

_If I had just left when everyone else did. If I’d just… Not been a jackass, she wouldn’t have had to come back for me. But, that’s always been my problem, hasn’t it?_ He thought, his eyes travelling down to a long, T-shaped scar on his inner forearm. Shepard had, in fact, broken his arm in pulling him free, and he had needed an ulnar compression plate fitted in the days after. Just another in a laundry list a mile long. That innocuous little line became a ghoulish reminder. _Yeah._ _I never know my real limits._

Thinking back to the moment earlier and looking into her eyes, the memory of her words sparking a pang of sheepishness and guilt to well up inside him.  _ “We’re not in the Alliance anymore… I know you too well to expect an apology…“ _

_ Jesus, yeah and here I am, like ‘Hey Shepard, thanks for another day getting shot at! Please now babysit me and my complete inability to regulate myself. Hey, remember when you died doing exactly that? Haha, have an intensely personal compliment!’ What an ass. No wonder she left the table. I’d have left, too. _

_ But… ...Her eyes  _ _ were _ _ beautiful, man. _

* * *

Shepard brushed sand away from her helmet’s neck connector, the particles bouncing noisily on the airlock’s metal flooring. Blinking at the brightness of the decontamination beam running down her body, she looked towards Grunt, watching the krogan admiring his own bicep.

“Good fight, Shepard!” He bellowed, taking his eyes off the developing scar and flashing her an enthusiastic grin.

“That’s healing up nicely,” she said, gesturing towards his arm. “First of many!”

His hearty laughter booming, he slapped Shepard’s back hard, making her cough.

“They didn’t stand a chance!” He replied, smashing his fist into his open hand and lumbering out into the hall, disappearing around the corner, followed closely by Garrus. “Now, food!” He bellowed, his stomping headed in the direction of the elevator.

With their footsteps receding, she paused in the open airlock, knocking more sand free of her breastplate and looking towards the left. With a moment passing and no sounds forthcoming, she stepped out into the hall, casting a curious glance in the direction of the cockpit. 

_ That’s odd, _ she thought.  _ He  _ _ always _ _ says hello to me first when I return. _

__ “I assume all is going well up here?” She asked, setting her shoulders back and standing up straighter as she approached. Helmet swinging from her fingertips, she folded her hands neatly behind her back.

With a mechanical whine, the chair turned, exposing Joker drumming his fingers on its armrest with one hand, the other to his chin. His eyes flicking up and down her figure, his gaze came to rest on the silver holes peppering her chestplate.

“...Your armour looks like Grunt’s been chewing on it,” he said.

_ He looks a little rough, _ she thought, observing the dark circles under his eyes.

“Not exactly a stabilising element, is he, Commander?” He asked, looking past her towards the elevator where Grunt was bouncing on the spot, staring at the doors. Bearing a polite smile, Shepard turned back to Joker and, shrugging one shoulder, she said,

“This mission requires a little unpredictability, I think.” Folding her arms, she added, “Besides, I wouldn’t exactly describe you and I as  _ stabilising elements _ , either.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, tapping at a window flickering up on his display.

“Well, we have the galaxy’s greatest flyboy, whose favourite pastimes include pulling off impossible shuttle drops and destroying Reapers,” she said, tilting her head and cocking her hip, “Alongside the first human Spectre, for whom hell wasn’t hot enough. Died, and still came back for more.”

His drumming fingers froze at her remark, missing a beat before straightening up in his seat, giving a shrug, and replying,

“Sounds like two perfectly stable people to me.”

_ Interesting. He doesn’t usually miss an opportunity to brag. _

“So, had enough sun and fun on Aeia?” He asked, opening the navigational array.

“Ugh, if you only knew,” She replied ruefully, bringing up her Omnitool. “It looks like…  _ I _ am going to Miranda’s office, and  _ you _ … are setting a course for Illium. We have another completely stable element to bring aboard.”

“Aye aye, Commander.” There was a crunching sound on the floor as Shepard turned to go, and he looked down, exclaiming, “Hey, hey, wait a minute --  _ Sand _ ? Is that  _ sand _ you’re tracking in here? Into  _ my _ office?”

“Too big for the decontamination sequence!” She said, laughing over her shoulder.

* * *

Leaning against the elevator wall, Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose, thinking to herself, _At least Miranda’s honest, if a little domineering._ _I’m glad that meeting is over._

Pausing in the hallway just outside her quarters, she pressed her throbbing forehead against the wall, closing her eyes and taking a few seconds out to appreciate the soothing cold.

“Commander?” Came a voice from her Omnitool. Tapping it, she let her arms drop, answering,

“Yes, I’m here. What do you need, Joker?”

“Just wanted to let you know, we’ll be entering Illium’s orbit at oh-eight-forty, Commander.”

“Thank you,” she said, still leaning against the wall. The line staying open, she heard him hesitate before adding,

“You, uh, feeling okay, there?”

“What?” She asked, snapping straight and looking about.  _ Of course, there are security cameras up here, too. Why wouldn’t there be? _

“I - No, no I’m fine,” She said, giving a dismissive wave of her hand. “Just tired.”

“Yep,” he said.

“And, Joker?” She asked, pressing the button on the doors.

“Yes, Commander?”

“... Thank you. For asking.” She said, furrowing her brow.  _ Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time anyone’s asked after me like that. I am the problem solver, not the problem haver. _

“Yep,” came his reply, and then a soft click, his mic turning off. 

Turning the lights down low and starting towards her bed, Shepard paused mid stride, her attention arrested by the single picture frame sitting on the desk. Drawing nearer to it, its screen flared to life, the portrait of Kaidan Alenko casting a glow across the desk’s shining surface.

_ Two years ago for you and everyone else, but only months for me, _ she thought, looking at his picture with tired eyes and sinking into the chair in front of it.  _ I wish you were here. _

Inspired by the intercom interruption just a moment earlier, she smiled at the surfacing memory of their first attempt at a kiss. 

_ It was almost perfect.  _ Recalling the way Kaidan had pulled her close, the way the light caught the line of his jaw, the scent of his aftershave, how her heart had leapt to her throat…  _ Only for Joker to interrupt. That jerk,  _ she thought, chuckling to herself.  _ He was probably watching the whole time. _

“Hmm,” she muttered aloud, her smile fading, looking up towards the stars and the flickering blue wisps of mass effect streaking by outside the windows.

_ Now  _ _ he _ _ is something of a mystery to me, _ she mused.  _ With all of today’s excitement, I’d almost forgotten about that little comment he made last night.  _

Her cheeks flushing, she recalled with some guilt how, in that sweet, ryncol-tinged haze, little butterflies took wing inside her belly. Gazing so deep into his eyes -- eyes as green as her own, she now realised --  _ I was actually just about to say the same thing to you.  _ Considering this for a moment, she visualised him sitting up there in the pilot’s seat, tapping away at helm control, far away from the rest of the crew.

_ You mouth off to everybody, you flout regulations constantly, you  _ _ hate _ _ being around people... You’re always acting like you’ve got something to prove no matter how much you do. And yet… How much you do astonishes me. You’re always there when I need you. There was never even a question. When  _ _ I _ _ need you, you are  _ _ always _ _ there. _

_ Which is a lot more than I can say for some. _

__

__ Picking up the picture frame, she placed it in her lap, looking down at Kaidan’s handsome features. Her face fell with the realisation that the lighting in the picture looked similar to the last time they had spoken, on Horizon. His embrace, crackling with eezo, had been loving and warm, if brief.

_ It was almost enough to make me think things were coming back together. _ Remembering his recoil, his accusations, the look of rage in his warm eyes felt like a kick to the gut, and she put the picture back in its place, vacating the chair in disgust. 

_ I wish you’d tell me it’ll all be okay. At this point, I don’t even give a shit if it’s true or not, I just want to hear you say it. _ Drawing up memories of his touch and thinking about the distinct absence of his warmth on one side of the bed made the act of trying to bottle the tears threatening to roll down her cheeks an impossible task. Her vision blurring, she set about pacing, even as she undid her clothing, preparing to sleep.

_ If the shoe had been on the other foot, I’d have gone with you, _ she raged, dropping like a stone onto the mattress and squeezing her eyes closed.  _ You _ _ wouldn’t have ever needed to ask. _

* * *

The vid screen showed a desaturated image of a hulking mercenary as he crashed to the floor face first, his body still twitching as Grunt’s foot connected, adding insult to injury with the delivery of a savage kick. As he continued on, trundling his way towards the elevator, Joker raised his eyebrows, muttering to himself,

“Pfft, remind me not to get on his bad side. The less I’m in  _ that guy’s _ head, the better.”

“When would you like me to remind you, Mr Moreau?” Issued a smooth voice, coming from the blipping blue hologram off to his left.

“No, EDI, I didn’t literally mean for you to remind me.” He replied, grumbling, his eyes darting to the comms panel and quadruple-checking that his mic was, in fact, off. “Though, maybe you ought to leave a message to these building contractors, they really gotta secure their camera feeds a bit better if they want to stop prying eyes.” 

Leaning back in his seat to continue watching the grim spectacle of Shepard flowing through the Dantius Towers, her team was busy painting newly laid floors a rich shade of red. Moving with a sense of purpose, something in the way she was sidling up to a gormless trooper just leaning against a window made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

_ Ooh, she means  _ _ business _ _ today, buddy, _ he thought.  _ She’s been real quiet so far, and that’s definitely never a good sign for people like you. _

“I’ll ask you again.” Shepard’s voice was as cold and sharp as ice through the mic.

With his eyes on a readout commanding his attention, the sounds of shattering glass took him by surprise.

_Jesus, she just pushed that guy right out the window!_ _It’s moments like this that remind me just how dangerous she really is…_ Watching her standing at her full height in the shattered glass, staring down with her fists balled up, vibrating with rage, a thought hit him.

_ Wait, is it weird that I kinda like that? _

Pulling up the next long list of available feeds, he swept through them until finding the right one.

“I don’t think this one’s coming down empty,” said Garrus, motioning toward the door at the far side of the room, just outside the camera’s field of view. With a silent gesture, Shepard slid behind a large planter, Garrus and Grunt taking up either side. 

Seconds later, the doors opened, Eclipse troopers in their characteristic yellow and black armour streaming out like so many hornets. Pushing them aside like toys, a krogan stormed out, jerking his head around, picking a target.

With just a few keystrokes, another camera’s feed appeared, showing Shepard and Garrus both flying up from behind cover. Aiming and firing in unison, her helmet’s mic picked up Garrus’ spent clip hissing as it touched the air, flying back past her head.

Watching the three step into the elevator, his attempts to pull up the next feed in the list were met with panels showing only blank static. Lifting his hands up to the keypad, he watched as the windows flickered, closing and reopening several times until the images were all coming up clear before he could even begin typing.

“That feed was attached to another network,” EDI explained. “I have successfully broken their recursive encryption algorithm on the sixth attempt.”

“Good for you.”

Hearing Shepard utter a little noise of uncertainty, he looked back toward the feed. Spotting her sleek form peeking out from behind a crate, he still couldn’t see what was making her hesitate. The security cam feed’s screen shook as projectiles smashed the ground. As he watched wave after wave, a pattern began to emerge. Looking as though she were trying to count them out by tapping on the butt of her rifle, he marked out seconds with his own finger, mirroring her. Time was slowing to a crawl with Shepard visibly hesitating, her taps falling out of sequence.

_ Come on, it’s just like music, count it, _ he thought towards her.  _ These are kinda cheapo auto turrets, their pattern isn’t going to change. You got this. One, two, three, Go… What are you waiting for? _

“What!” He exclaimed aloud, shooting bolt upright in his seat at the sight of her just springing up out of cover. “That’s too late!” 

Scrabbling to a stop with her arms pinwheeling, Shepard was just taking a step back as an impact destabilised her, and she cried out in surprise. With her boots just barely on the edge, a second blast sent her feet right out from under her. With eyes wide, he watched her body careening over the edge, into a fall of countless storeys. Wincing at the sound of her scream, her abject terror through the earpiece tore right through him.

It was only upon registering the sight of Grunt hurling himself across the bridge, braving the bullets bouncing across his broad back as he thrust the whole length of his body down and catching Shepard’s boot, that Joker realised he had been holding his breath. Grunt was using his entire weight to rock Shepard’s limp shape, first left, right, then up -- up and over onto her back. Relief washed over him along with the sounds of her coughing and spluttering. The silver-scaled krogan roared, planting himself in front of her, affording her time to claw herself back behind a block of concrete.

Watching her pull herself back together, shaking as more missiles bit into the concrete, it seemed almost like she was looking right into the vid feed for a second. 

_ I wish I’d said something. _

“On my count, Shepard, yeah?” He heard Garrus saying, his tone shaken, but reassuring.

“Yeah,” she replied, still coughing and catching her breath. “O-On your count.”

As they darted across the bridge, passing the missiles, Joker looked up at the readouts above his head, displaying mass effect field stability fluctuations. 

_ Actually, no. I’m listening in and watching in case I’m needed from up here. The last thing she needs is me breaking her concentration. Garrus and Grunt  _ _ know what to do _ _. They do their job, I do mine. _

_ Still,  _ he thought, watching the numbers drift up and down in easy, predictable patterns,  _ I know it isn’t exactly my strong suit, but sometimes, I wish I was there, or that I could do more.  _

An intrusive thought rose up from the back of his mind; The heavy vibrations of the escape pod’s hatch sealing off. Glowering back down at his boots, he cleared his throat before asking,

“Hey, EDI. Tell me something. Any old radio waves from Earth we can pick up out here?”


	3. Leadership

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chakwas patiently listens. Grunt experiences a problem requiring investigation.

_ "Take off your armour _

_ Friend of mine _

_ I have no arrows _

_ But I got time _

_ All your sorrow _

_ Keeps you glued to your seat _

_ Can we get you out of your head _

_ And onto your feet?" _

_ The Midnight, Dance With Somebody _

Twisting in his chair to catch a glimpse of the newest crew member stepping out of the airlock, Joker squinted, looking him up and down. 

_ Green skin, long jacket. Huh. _ He turned back, all curiosity sated within a fraction of a second.

_ Yup, looks like another weirdo. _ Poking through reams of data on his displays and trying to look busy as they walked by, he paused nevertheless at hearing Shepard’s light footsteps in particular.

“Hey, Commander.” He said over his shoulder, just loud enough for her to hear. The muscles in his jaw dancing, he asked himself,

_ Man, what’s with me? I’m really anxious all of a sudden. I don’t actually wanna talk, I just wanna get us the hell out of here. _

“What’s wrong, Joker? EDI filtering the extranet again?” Asked Shepard with a wry smile, leaning her elbow on his seat’s headrest. As she stood, she crossed one ankle over the other. Leaning out of his seat and scowling as he looked down at the sole of her boot, he remarked,

“Oh, nothing’s wrong, just as long as you’re not tracking any more sand or teeth or bits of people or whatever in here. I’m  _ still _ brushing it out of my chair on the daily… Eh, besides,” he added, with a casual flick of his hand across his panel, “I cracked EDI’s little net-nanny operation weeks ago.”

“I know,” she said, that lop-sided grin never leaving her lips. “I used the bypass once.”

Opening his mouth to reply, and thinking better of it almost immediately, he stared at the propulsion systems display monitors for a few seconds instead.

“Hey, so, Grunt really saved your ass today. I don’t wanna tell you how to save the world or anything, but you really should be more careful.” He said. A green light blinking from over to his right began casting a soft glow across her face, and following her eyes back to the comms panel, he saw it blinking on a frequency reserved for the Illusive Man.Leaning down, she tapped in the confirmation sequence, patching it through to herself. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she smiled, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t worry,” she said quietly. “I’ll be careful.” 

Her hand sliding from his shoulder, she turned to go without a backward glance, presumably heading to the Debriefing Room.

_ Huh, _ he thought, turning to lean on his armrest, watching her leave.  _ She’s never just gone and touched me before. Never seemed the touchy-feely type, either. It pisses me off when people do that kind of thing as well, but... Guess I’m getting soft in my old age, and maybe she is, too… Still. I’m glad she’s back safe. It would’ve been hard to lose her again. _

* * *

  
  


Unless otherwise engaged, Dr Karin Chakwas always took her meals at twenty-three hundred. By five past the hour, she could be found sitting in the Mess at the table closest to Med Bay with a datapad in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. The doctor stirred her drink absentmindedly, scrolling through pages on the datapad. Startling as a plate appeared in front of her, she looked up to see the helmsman setting down across the table, his own tray also in hand.

_ It really is remarkable how well he moves now, _ she thought, noting his posture.  _ He stands much straighter, his limp much less pronounced. The man I knew just a few years ago would never have been so sure on his feet as to carry something in both hands _ .

“Jeff,” she said, gesturing to the plate with the corner of her datapad before pushing the device aside. “Thank you. And to what do I owe the pleasure?” She asked, accepting the proffered fork.

“Long day for you too?” He asked.

“Indeed,” she replied. “Sometimes I feel I should like to go out and sight-see. Illium looks quite lovely from the Observation Deck.”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding in half-hearted agreement. “But then you see all the gunfire and explosions, and your taste for being a tourist kinda goes out the window.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she replied, offering a polite smile.

“I just never know what to  _ do, _ you know? Like go around and buy mugs or shirts or something? I never got that whole thing.” As he spoke, he began separating out his food by ingredients first. He then set about cutting the pieces into chunks of similar sizes, scrutinising them one by one, lining them up on his plate. Dr Chakwas watched this behaviour with a dispassionate eye, taking time in considering her words.

“I’m surprised at you, Jeff. For someone who makes a career of exploring the galaxy, you seem to have precious little interest in the actual exploration part of it all! It isn’t all about handbags and sunhats, you know. New people, new views, getting to know about the culture of another place and seeing how others do things,” she said in between sips of tea. “Even the Commander does some sightseeing and shops a bit herself, despite the gunfire, it would seem. She buys fish.”

“Fish? Hadn’t noticed that. Guess she doesn’t think the seafood surprise is all that fresh, either. Hey, think if I ask nice enough she’ll give me a lobster? Not sure I want to eat it, though. Maybe just replace EDI with it. Better conversation.”

“You’re seeming a little more upbeat than usual,” she replied.

“What, can’t a guy just be in a good mood? I mean, I came into this conversation with no idea that I might be able to get myself a pet lobster.” He said, chasing a square of mystery meat around his plate.

Placing her teacup on the table, the older woman’s smile was soft as she replied, “Oh, certainly. It’s just unexpected, that’s all. I don’t mean to sound unappreciative of your company, but usually when you come to see me, it’s with a concern.”

Rubbing at the brim of his cap as if it were itchy, he cast a furtive look around either direction before hunkering down, crossing his arms on the table.

“I’m still not sleeping well. I keep having those dreams.”

“Would you like to continue this conversation in my office?” She asked.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “No, it’s not  _ that _ serious. Nobody else is here anyway. It’s just…”

“Is it the dreams about the SR1 again?”

“Yeah. Over and over. It’s getting worse.” He said.

“Would you like something to help you sleep?”

“No,” he answered, shaking his head. “Can’t risk it.”

“Mm, I thought you might say as much, but felt it best to ask.”

“I was watching the feeds,” he said, furrowing his brow. “Like I normally do. Shepard nearly died.”

“Shepard risks her life every day.” Chakwas replied, looking into the bottom of her teacup.

“Yeah. Yeah -- I mean, sure, I know. But it was different this time. It  _ got _ to me, is what I’m saying. She fell off this bridge, and it was… Yeah, there just wasn’t anything I could do about it,” he explained, lifting his hands in a futile gesture. “Just  _ sit there _ and  _ watch _ . Story of my life.” He continued, voice falling to just above a mutter.

“You’ve seen her die once before. That’s a difficult thing for anyone to witness, and it only makes sense that you’d be put on edge being confronted with going through that again.” Straightening up in her chair and shaking her head, she continued, “I know you don’t want to hear it, but it’s practically a textbook case, I’m afraid. If you were anyone else, I would suggest that you not watch the feeds, but your position makes that infeasible.”

“Yeah. Okay, well, it’s like this. She’s acting a bit weird at me and it’s set me off.”

“Well,  _ that _ begs clarification.” Replied Dr Chakwas, raising an eyebrow.

A look of puzzlement coming over him, he replied, “When I told her to be careful earlier, she touched me on the shoulder. Told me... Not to worry.”

“That seems quite the normal gesture to me. Why would that set you off?”

“Because it’s weird. Look, I know it’s a little thing, but that’s not the kind of thing she does. And it’s not a thing I do,” he replied, looking off and grumbling, “I  _ hate _ it when other people touch me.”

“But, not when she does?” Offered Chakwas, delicately.

“I didn’t say that.” He said, his hard expression softening as Chakwas waited in patient silence for him to finish his train of thought. Eventually, he levelled, adding, “I just… I have to be careful, you know? Usually I find that kind of thing patronising, too, but it didn’t feel like she meant it that way at all.” 

“I see,” she said, placing her empty plate to one side and crossing one leg over the other before folding her hands in her lap. “It’s clear to me that Shepard sees you as a person, not just anyone of rank and file. Yes, she is our commanding officer, but I think she also views you as a close and personal friend. You’ve been through a lot together, after all. To venture a guess, perhaps the problem is you’re realising that you find her interesting, as well.”

“Interesting? As in ‘ _ interesting’  _ interesting?” he replied, frowning. “Don’t you know the extranet and I are going steady?”

“It would make a lot of sense, actually, come to think of it.” She mused aloud, looking upwards in thought, continuing on as if he had gone unheard. “She has always been very concerned about your personal wellbeing, in particular.”

“Next you’ll be suggesting that I start following her around, batting my eyes at her like the rest of the crew.” He said, snorting with indignance.

“Is that something you’re inclined to do?” She asked, shaking her head with a smile.

“I like how things are. Sometimes people talk, then they go away. Sometimes I talk, and then I go away. It’s this wonderful cycle of going away and leaving me alone that just  _ works _ for me,” he said, bristling, tossing his spoon into his empty cup. “... Besides. Shepard’s spoiled for choice as it is. Scuttlebutt says her and Alenko had a thing.”

“Mm, yes, I am aware,” Chakwas said, nodding. “But, I don’t deal in rumours.”

_ Scuttlebutt also says that hasn’t gone very well recently,  _ thought the doctor to herself. _ I’m sure he knows that, too. _

“Maybe it’s not strictly against the regs here, but the ship would get jealous. Bad luck, you know.” He said.

“Of course,” Chakwas replied, her tone delicate as before. “You seem to have given some thought to this, yourself.” 

“No more than anybody else has.” Standing up from the table, he gathered up their plates, stacking them on the trays.   


“Shall I see you Sunday, for your physical?”

“Yep.” He said, limping off.

* * *

_ “If a krogan’s going to challenge your leadership - and he will - he’ll do it in one of two ways,” said Wrex, his clawed hand tight around the glass of ryncol. Tapping the hard, bony red crest atop his broad head, he continued on, saying, “If he’s smart, he’ll make an indirect, but obvious threat and assess your reaction. If he’s stupid, he’ll do the same thing, but he’ll outright insult you.” Tipping the contents of the glass down his throat in one gulp, he shook his massive head. “Krogan do it all the time. Even kids. It’s stupid to constantly waste your leader’s time with full on battles, but it’s good to keep him on his toes… Let him know his spot is desired. It’s a show of respect.” _

_ “And, uh. How would I respond to something like that?” Shepard asked, slurring her words, wobbling even as she leaned on the bar. _

_ “You’ve got a real fine ship, here, Shepard.” Wrex rumbled, the threat in his tone catching her off-guard, making her stand up straight. He jutted his jaw, one of his bright red eyes all but filling her vision as he planted his fist on the bar. Grabbing the counter to steady herself, she had to squint to focus, with the room spinning as it was. Refusing to break their locked stare, she mimicked his body language, stepping closer to his huge eye. _

_ “Hahaha!” Wrex’s booming laugh shook her bones. “You do it like that, and you’ll be fine every time.”  _

_ Even through the fuzziness of her drunken haze, she noticed the pointed way in which he lowered his head. _

The floor shuddered under Grunt’s stomping feet, the slitted pupils of his blue eyes contracting tight as Shepard stood before him, placing her hands together behind her back and keeping a placid expression to mask her concern.

“I don’t know what’s wrong, Shepard,” he growled, staring out towards the engine core, his muscles bunching and slackening even just standing still. “I don’t… I just, I want to… kill something. With my  _ hands! _ ” He snarled, whipping his wedge-shaped head around to bear down upon her, flaring his nostrils. Unblinking, she was as a statue, even as he thrust his blunt jaw to within an inch of her own before catching himself, backing off and lowering his eyes to the floor.

Inhaling deeply, Grunt then turned, smashing his head into the glass window next to the both of them. Startling at this, she regained her composure as he turned about to face her, scraping bits of glass out from between the many thick, unfused plates atop his head.

“See!?” He roared. “Why do that!? What is wrong with me!?”

Summoning her inner calm once more, Shepard replied, 

“You need to see someone of your own kind about this.”

“The doctors don’t go off-world,” he grumbled, a frustrated sigh blasting from his nares.

“Then we’ll get  _ on- _ world _ , _ ” she replied, raising her voice, stepping closer and setting her shoulders back. Bowing his head, seeming to take some kind of relief from her aggressive display, he replied,

“Thank you, Shepard.”

Looking up towards the ceiling, she barked,

“Joker!”

“Commander?” Came his answer, from above.

“Set a course for Tuchanka,” she ordered, before focusing again on the young krogan. “And  _ you, _ settle down, as best you can. We’ll get you to a doctor.” Turning on her heel, she left the room without another word, consumed by thoughts.

_ I’ve never seen Wrex act like that,  _ she thought, raising a finger to her chin, walking briskly to the Med Bay.  _ But then… Wrex is an old krogan. He knows his limits and his strengths… Grunt is kind of just a giant baby… What if this is the onset of some kind of neurological degeneration? What if it’s contagious? _

Opening the doors to Dr Chakwas’ office, she nodded towards the woman in greeting, focusing on one of the many decontamination bays. Setting her jacket on a nearby chair, she began scrubbing her arms up to her elbows.

“Commander?” Dr Chakwas inquired, looking at Shepard’s urgent and forceful scrubbing. “Is there something I ought be aware of?”

“I’m sorry to burst in here like this, but I’ve just been to speak with Grunt. He might be ill, he’s acting strangely,” she replied, her voice tinged with worry. “I’d better put that jacket through the beam,” she added, her brow furrowing as she looked down. “Probably the rest of me, as well.”

“I’m afraid I know relatively little about krogan physiology, Commander, but the odd fact I do know tells me that there haven’t been any xenoses recorded from krogan to human. As a result, from my understanding, the chances of him having transmitted something to you are very rare. But, if you’re concerned, perhaps you ought to check with Dr Solus?” 

“I think I probably will,” Shepard replied, picking up a towel.

“As it happens, Commander, while you’re here...”

“I have a minute,” Shepard replied, taking a seat, watching the doctor walk to a set of cabinets. Upon seeing Chakwas pick up several glass sample vials, Shepard cleared her throat. 

“On second thought...” She said. Chakwas’ withering look in response making her crack a grin, Shepard set about rolling up her sleeve, asking,

“Fun. What are these for?”

“Well, with your having gone through such extensive tissue regrowth, there are some abnormalities I’d like to check for. It’s been a while since your last panels,” she explained, examining the tip of a hypodermic needle. “Is this behaviour with Grunt a new development? He was with you on your recent excursion to Illium, wasn’t he?”

“He was, yeah. Apparently this all started just a short while ago… I’m really worried about him.”

“I can see that,” replied Dr Chakwas, picking up Shepard’s forearm and swabbing just beneath her bicep, above the vein. “You seem to afford him a great deal of trust. As I recall, you had a good rapport with Wrex, as well. I don’t mean to generalise, but in my limited experience it seems you have a way with krogans.”

“They’ve both saved my skin a few times. Just the other day, Grunt caught me when I fell off the top of the Dantius Towers. It was windy up there, and I misjudged an opening. Stupid mistake. Can’t keep a rhythm to save my life, it turns out,” she said, flashing a grim smile.

“Hold that there,” said Chakwas, pressing a cotton swab to Shepard’s arm. “I hope Grunt turns out all right. As I understand, he’s quite young.”

“Yes, he is… I don’t like seeing him so anxious. This sounds a little funny, I suppose, given that he’s three times my size, but, I suppose I feel a little… Protective, or, maybe, ah…” Shepard said, trailing off, searching for the words.

  
  


“ _Maternal_ , Commander?” Chakwas suggested, smiling as she placed the vial in a tray. “It happens to the best of us. There are one or two among us here that I feel quite similarly towards,” she said, glancing briefly towards the front end of the ship and popping the cap on the last of the three vials.

Discomfited by the cold tingling in her left arm, Shepard began wiggling and flexing her fingers, trying to get the blood back.

“You know, Commander, this is just conjecture and shouldn’t be mistaken for medical advice, but, as you well know, the sudden onset of unusual and even troublesome behaviours can be signs of stress.”

“Hmm,” Shepard replied thoughtfully, running her fingers over her closely-shaven head. “That’s true. It’s difficult to know what counts as normal, in the situation we’re in… But, actually, a few things stand out recently, in addition to what’s going on with Grunt.”

“Is that so?” Asked Chakwas, placing the tray of samples next to an agitator. “Although, I must add, don’t feel as though you need to elaborate.”

Tapping a finger to her chin, Shepard explained, “... A few nights ago, I had to personally go up and tell Joker to take his relief shift and get some sleep. I’ve been concerned he’s spending too much time up there, and he looks like he’s been losing sleep. I don’t claim to fully understand why the crew’s rosters work the way they do, here… Crew being able to pencil in their own shifts for the most part isn’t a system I’m familiar with… But I understand that this isn’t the Alliance.”

“I see,” Chakwas replied, sitting down at her desk. “I can see how such a system might have an adverse effect on someone who was being, perhaps, a little overzealous.”

Shepard smiled, continuing to shake out her arm.

“I think  _ overzealous _ may be putting it lightly, when it comes to him and the helm. But, that’s the Joker we know and love,” she said.

“Indeed. Jeff is… A very  _ complex _ man. He has spent years avoiding social interactions of any kind. Given the opportunity, I can understand very well why he might try his utmost to stay where he feels he belongs.” 

“Yeah. I’ll tell you what’s strange though. I know he can be a little defensive, so, when I made him come down, I fed him a few beers that night. He must’ve been a little out of it, because he told me I had nice eyes,” Shepard said with a soft chuckle, retrieving her jacket from the chair and sliding it on over her shoulders. “Told me to be careful, as well, when I came back from Illium.”

“Did he now?” Asked the doctor, raising an eyebrow in mild surprise, adding, “Paying a compliment? Showing concern? That is unusual for him. He seems perhaps a little more sensitive lately.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d start to wonder if he had some kind of a soft spot for me,” she said, smiling and shaking her head.

“Am I right in my assumption that you consider him a friend? You  _ do _ visit with him every time you come back,” asked the doctor, folding her hands on her desk.

“Yes, of course I do.” Shepard’s tone darkening somewhat, she added, “You and he have been the only people who came to me without question when I needed you.”

“There is no doubt in my mind that either one of us would come to help you any time it was required,” Chakwas said. “I feel confident in also speaking for Jeff when I say that the both of us hold you in very high regard.”

“Thank you,” Shepard replied, musing aloud, “I think when I have time next, I’ll try to catch him after his shift, make sure he’s alright. I have a few more beers handy.”

“If you do, Commander, I suggest you tread lightly. He is a man to whom offense comes easily,” she said, brushing the silver hair from her eyes.

“There’s no other way I tread, Doctor.” She said, rising from the chair. 


	4. Soliloquy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few memories, a few thoughts, a solid thirty percent effort.

_"My oh my how this lady can fly  
Once she starts rollin' to leave you  
You know you just can't lose the way she moves  
You wait for her to finally release you"_

_Don Felder, Takin' A Ride_

“ _Ah, come on, Alenko,” said Joker, rolling his eyes, letting his head loll to one side as he looked toward the man sitting in the right-hand side co-pilot’s seat. “You don’t expect me to believe that. Everyone develops one. Zipping around, weeks between anything happening and packed up all cozy... It’s bound to happen,” he continued, grinning._

_“Well, maybe,” said Kaidan at last, shaking his head. “Even so, I wouldn’t tell you.”_

_“Why not?” Joker asked._

_“Somehow, everyone would know five minutes later.” Kaidan answered, smoothing down his uniform. “For someone who chooses his friends so carefully, you’re a big gossip hound.”_

_“Oh, I’m hurt,” Joker replied, a sly smile playing across his face, placing his hand to his chest in mock offense. “You wound me, sir. Don’t you think I have a legitimate interest in the affairs of a friend of mine? Go on, tell me. Maybe I’ll even be your wingman.”_

_Looking like he was absorbed in thought, Kaidan looked up from his display._

_“Alright,” he said. “There’s only one way I’ll play your game. I’ll tell you if you--”_

_“This isn’t the old ‘If you can do a jumping jack’ line again, is it?” Joker said, interrupting. “Because we talked about that.”_

_“No,” he replied with a quiet chuckle, “No. I’ll tell you if you offer me an equivalent exchange.”_

_“Mutually assured destruction!” Joker exclaimed with a glint in his eye. “Since when did you grow teeth, Kaidan? I’m impressed.”_

_“I called you a gossip hound,” he replied, turning back to his screen. “I never said I didn’t enjoy a good crew-related story sometimes, myself.”_

_“Alright. Hit me with your best shot,” Joker said, watching the ship’s wings trim up against ion flow._

_Leaning back in his seat, Joker could feel Kaidan’s eyes on him, studying him carefully before guessing,_

_“You’ve got a thing for the quarian, don’t you?”_

_“Swing, and a miss,” Joker answered. “Tali’s a good guess, but the fact she’d probably die from just taking off her shirt, nevermind taking anything else, kinda makes me put that one on ice.”_

_“That sense of vulnerability is apparently what attracts some people to quarians,” said Kaidan, shrugging._

_“Uh, some people like_ _you_ _, I’m guessing, because nobody would’ve mentioned that otherwise.” Joker replied._

_“No, that’s--” Kaidan’s insistent tone made Joker laugh._

_“Sick, man. That’s actually really sick.”_

_“I’m not actually into aliens,” said Kaidan, giving a deferential tilt of his head to one side as he added, “I mean, I like the look of asari sometimes. Who doesn’t?”_

_“Hmm,” thought Joker aloud. “You know, you’ve always been one to set your sights a little high…” he said, tapping in a command to adjust course. His remark meeting only with silence, he looked over to see Kaidan’s subtle shift in expression, his friendly tone unchanging, but something in the air feeling a little darker._

_“‘Setting your sights a little high,’? Do you think..._ _You_ _might be the one doing that?”_

_“What do you mean?” Joker asked, shifting in his seat._

_“I think you know what I mean,” he replied. “You’ve actually got your eye on Shepard.”_

_“Ah, pfft. Well, yeah, you know. Like I said, it’s just some dumb thing,” he said, shrugging._

_“I dunno, is it?” Kaidan asked coolly, his attention fixing on the terminals in front of him._

_“Yeah. Why are we even talking about this, anyway?” Joker deflected, wrinkling his nose with feigned disinterest._

_“_ _You_ _brought it up,” came Kaidan’s no-nonsense reply._

_“Minor gravitational spike in the core node, realigning field discs,” he mumbled, sinking back in his seat. Nothing much else was said for the remainder of the shift._

* * *

Frowning, Joker held the two halves of plastic up to the light, trying to fit them together. One of the pieces seeming irregular, he set the other down on the cutting board balancing on his mattress, and picked up the modeling knife instead. The blade easily cut away the extra material, and with a little more effort, it clipped into place with its partner.

 _That friendship kinda went down the toilet after that,_ he thought, rummaging through the model’s box for the next sheet of sprues. _I understand why now, I guess. But… That cold shoulder felt pretty hard, until I saw him try to kiss her near the lockers._

An unpleasant feeling writhing in his stomach at the memory, he recalled having just the same sensation of eels swimming in his gut back then as he stabbed the intercom button hard enough to hurt his finger a little.

 _She was so annoyed, too. She even called me out, asked me if I was listening in… It would’ve been funny, if it hadn’t felt so bad,_ he remembered. _I was_ _so_ _jealous. Fuck it, I’m_ _still_ _jealous._

Blowing some plastic shavings off the front part of what was becoming a recognisable chassis, he slid a thin sheet of clear plastic in through panels on the side, becoming windows. As he worked, he rationalised, thinking,

_Kaidan was afraid of competition, I think. That’s weird, for a guy like him… He’s got that whole tall, dark and handsome thing going on, he’s sensitive, soft-spoken, good-natured… The list goes on. He’s just the sort of guy who’d be in Shepard’s league._

_Man, what’d he do to screw it up so bad on Horizon?_ _She came home looking like she was about to bawl her eyes out._ He thought, bristling. _Nice one, Kaidan, well done, good job._

 _She can definitely_ _more_ _than handle herself, but even so, it still kinda makes me want to break stuff when she looks_ _that_ _sad about something._

_There’s a word for this whole entire bullshit feeling,_ he concluded, sighing as he took the knife to the stubborn bits of plastic still sticking out from the piece. _Infatuation. I just thought I’d dealt with it._

 _Doing anything about it was against regs in the Alliance… Not that_ _that little detail_ _stopped_ _Kaidan_ _from swooping on in,_ he thought, bitterly. _But now? Here? Everyone seems to know what Kenneth and Gabriella are doing. But they just sit around and play with wires or whatever all day. I’m the pilot, she’s the Commander. It’s different. Isn’t it?_

_And yet…_

An ache grew in his chest as he allowed himself to imagine, for just one moment, what it might feel like to trace his fingers down her neck, to pull her to him in a tight embrace, to press his body and his lips and everything else to hers in some sweet, heady frenzy, and to finally feel what he’d been missing out on for so, so long…

“Oh, neat! What’s that you’re making?”

Snapping back to reality, Joker found himself sitting on his bunk, still holding the half-assembled model, looking in Kelly Chambers’ direction. 

“This? It’s an ancient device that transmits knowledge,” he replied. Her eyes widened, looking at it.

“Really?” She asked.

“Yeah,” he said, holding it up. “It teaches you how to mind your own business.”

With her face falling flat, he smiled, despite himself.

“I know it’s a tank of some kind,” she said, swinging her legs up onto her bunk and pulling out a datapad. “What’s it _supposed to be?_ ”

“It’s _supposed to be_ a Mako, like we had back on the SR1.”

“Right,” she said. “What are you going to do with it when it’s done?”

“I dunno,” he replied, shrugging one shoulder as he fitted more pieces onto it.

“You don’t collect them or anything?” She asked through a yawn.

“Nope,” he replied, deep in focus, “I just build them.”

“Why?”

“Because I like to,” he replied, slowly, concentrating too much to make a deflection. “It helps me think.” Sliding the gunnery part onto the top, the Mako sat almost completed on his cutting board.

“Well, if you’re not going to keep it, can I have it?” She asked.

“I’m probably going to leave it around somewhere for somebody to find,” he replied. “I do that with ‘em sometimes.”

“You could give it to Shepard. She collects model ships and stuff.”

“Maybe she’ll be lucky enough to find it,” he said, holding two parts of the rear together, waiting for the glue to fuse. 

“Aw. I bet she’d appreciate it actually coming from you, but suit yourself.” Kelly said. Lying on her back, she drew her knees up, bringing the datapad up to rest propped on her thighs. Taking this as a welcome sign of imminent peace, Joker’s tensed shoulders relaxed.

_She probably would,_ he surmised. _It’d be kind of fitting, too. I set records with that shuttle drop, and she was kind of_ _in it_ _at the time. That’s fun, right? A Hundred Meters’ Clearance Club?_

“Hmm, do you really think she’d get a kick out of it?” He asked, breaking the silence and turning it over in his hands, adding, “Heh. Can’t do that with a real one.” 

Blinking in surprise, Kelly looked back over at him, letting the datapad droop in her hands.

“You’re… Asking my opinion?” She asked, tilting her head with a polite, but confused, smile.

“Whoa, whoa, don’t get too excited. Remember to breathe,” he said, holding his hands up.

“Yeah, I think she would. I watch her pretty closely, I have to, you know, for my job. I want her to be happy, but… I know she’s a little hard to read sometimes, she puts on a very good front, but she’s been a little down since… Well, since Horizon, I’d say.” Kelly explained, rolling over on her side to face his bunk. “I don’t know how much you know about that, but, it did _not_ go well with that guy she knows.”

“Yeah, I… wasn’t really watching the feeds or listening in to the shore party too much that time, so, I don’t know,” he replied.

“You listen in?” She asked. “Directly?”

“How else am I meant to know when to move this baby so I can swoop in to save the day? Being me isn’t all just luck and roguish good looks,” he said, tugging on the bill of his cap.

“Though, there _is_ quite a bit of that,” she replied, and winked, watching for a reaction.

“Listen, this beard didn’t happen overnight,” he said, gesticulating with a haughty air. “Took seven weeks of meticulous sculpting to achieve this. You should feel honoured to bask in its splendour.”

“I meant the luck part, Joker, but judging by the way I’ve seen Shepard look at you sometimes, I guess I’ll agree.” She rolled again onto her back, bringing the datapad up to her nose, adding, “I’ll be honest, I wish she looked at _me_ like that.”

“ _Y- Wha-_ Well, that’s the power of a good beard, you see,” he quipped, pulling the cap down in an effort to disguise the red heat he felt rushing across his face. “Your problem is that you clearly just aren’t trying hard enough to grow one.”

“Speak of the Devil,” she muttered, gesturing with a nod of her head.

Joker followed Kelly’s gaze to see Shepard rounding the corner, looking a little distracted as she daubed a cloth to her eye.

“Ooh, Commander, that looks nasty, what happened?” Kelly called, keeping her voice to a courteous volume.

“Just another happy customer, Kelly,” she said, taking the cloth away from her face to reveal a reddish bruise surrounding her eye.

“Yikes, Commander. I’d _hate_ to see the other guy. I mean, I assume it was a guy. And that you won,” he said. “You did win, right?”

“Is that… A _Mako_?” Shepard asked with apparent interest, squinting. “Where did you get that?”

“I customised a kit I got a long time ago,” he explained, adding, “they don’t actually just make them.”

Stepping closer and leaning down to take a look, she raised her eyebrows in surprise, exclaiming,

“It’s perfect!”

“I dunno about that, it’s missing one thing,” he said, flashing a wry smile. “All your _‘handiwork’_ on the front, and by that I mean all the dents and stuff we couldn’t buff out. Wrex always said you couldn’t drive for shit.”

Shepard laughed, turning the cutting board to get a better view.

“He only says that because I never let him drive,” she explained. “I let him once, and he managed to actually flip the thing. It was ridiculous.”

“Flipped the… ? How can you flip it? It rights itself!” Joker replied, in disbelief.

“That’s what I said, right after I was introduced to my lunch a second time! So, it pains me to say it, but I can’t take credit for all that _handiwork_ as you call it,” she said, with a laugh reaching up to her eyes. “Ow,” she added, gingerly replacing the cloth, her smile fading. “I really do miss that thing.”

 _Take it,_ he wanted to say. _Take it, and remember some good times._ But instead, he said,

“So, what are you down here for? I don’t think we get the pool table until _next_ week.”

“Actually, I was wondering if you had a minute at some point, but it isn’t anything pressing,” she said. “If now isn’t a good time, just send me a message.”

“Uh,” he replied, looking askance toward her.

“It really isn’t important, just to talk, get a coffee. I’d have sent you an email about it, but looking at screens and Omnitools right now isn’t going to be very fun for me for the next twenty minutes or so until the drugs kick in.” She explained. “I figured I’d maximise my time while I have a Miranda-proof excuse not to look at reports.”

Feeling Kelly’s stare on him, he chanced a look to see her eyes meeting his own. Casually lifting the datapad to block Shepard’s view, Kelly widened her eyes at him, mouthing,

_“Go!”_

“You sure you’re not just gonna puke all over the Mess, nursing a concussion like that? Eh, I guess _somebody’s_ gotta take care of you,” he said towards Shepard, standing up from the edge of the mattress, carefully stretching his legs. “Don’t steal my Mako, Chambers,” he added.

Following Shepard to the door, he shook his head, remarking,

“I still can’t believe Wrex _flipped_ it. I always took him at his word when he said I should give you lessons.”

“I didn’t know you spoke with Wrex much?” She asked, matching his pace toward the Mess.

“Nah, it was- uh. It was Kaidan that said _that,_ actually,” he said, looking toward her as she walked, her hands clasped together around her back.

“Mm,” she answered with a polite, yet pained smile at the mention of his name.

“So, how was Tuchanka? Did you get me a postcard?”

“I thought they might be a little irradiated,” she replied, brightening up. “I’ll get you a Thresher Maw tooth for a keychain next time, though?”

_The Thresher Maw,_ he thought to himself, calling back to peering down at the scene from the Normandy’s cameras. _You were so scared, but you wouldn’t think that by looking at you now. You were shaking like a leaf,_ he recalled, his eyes resting on the spot where he knew that a scar spanned from left to right across her face, only visible now when the light struck her a certain way. A ghost of it remained in her features, as even despite the extensive reconstructive surgery, a slice remained missing from her left eyebrow, where the hairs had forgotten how to grow.

Imagining the sight of it as a fresh, bleeding wound on the face of a much younger Shepard, hauling herself alone out of what passed for the face of a Thresher Maw, he said,

“Nah, I’m good. Those things give me the creeps. Though probably not as much as you,” he said, shrugging. “How many have you seen, anyways, since that thing on Akuze?” He asked, wondering aloud.

“‘ _That thing on Akuze,_ ’ heh. That’s definitely one way to put it,” she said, that same soft, pained smile resurfacing. Giving a sharp tug to his cap, he chided himself,

_Oh, nice one Jeff. Douche. Why don’t you bring up her dead parents next and make it a full set?_

“Well, it didn’t eat me or my squad this time, so, it could’ve been worse… I’ve seen one or two since then, but mostly I’ve just given them a wide berth,” she said, stepping into the Mess. Mostly empty this time of day, Joker looked towards a corner usually inhabited by a little clique of guffawing crew, finding it empty.

“So, they _do_ have jobs,” he said, motioning toward the spot. Her gentle chuckling in response setting him at ease, he took a seat, leaning his elbow on the table and allowing his eyes to roam over her a little as she moved towards the wall near the counter.

 _It’s kinda odd, I guess,_ he thought, looking at her closely shaved hair. _Most women tend to let it grow out. No requirements anywhere we’ve been to have it all off, like that. Suits her, though. She’s like a… Less intense Jack. Or maybe just as intense, but in a different way._

“Do you actually want coffee, or do you want something different from my locker?” She asked over her shoulder.

“Oh, look into your heart,” he replied with a mischievous grin.

“I thought as much,” she responded in kind, adding “Ow,” under her breath.

“So,” he said, “what’s on Shepard’s _menu du jour_?”

Her return to the table heralded a can placed down in front of him bearing a picture of a sunset ocean inlet and an orca whale.

“Salish Sea Killer Ale,” he read aloud. “Cute. No ryncol in this one, I’m guessing?”

“Not this time. Just good old Canadian beer, from around where I was born. I guess it’s a little sentimental, but good company deserves good drinks,” She said, briefly holding her own cold can up against her eye.

“I’ll drink to that. Wait, this is from Earth?” He asked, looking around the bottom of the can. “It’s not really old or anything, is it?”

“Honestly, the cheek on you sometimes,” she said through a laugh, shaking her head. Squinting across the table, she added, “Ah, wait… Aha, good… It’s starting to kick in. There’s only _one_ of you, now.”

“That’s good, because there can _be_ only one,” he replied with pointed emphasis, grinning.

Shepard paused, looking upward in thought. “I’ve heard that somewhere before… Wait… Don’t tell me. It was on one of the errant signals from Earth a few weeks ago, wasn’t it?” She said, smiling in recognition. “I put those on sometimes in the background. I can’t stand it being too quiet. You get some weird things on there, sometimes.”

“Some of it’s great,” he said, nodding enthusiastically. “Accurate, in some ways, too, even though it’s over a hundred years old… And then you get that stuff that just knocks you flat on your ass imagining that people thought _that’s_ how space works. Man, we were so dumb.” 

“Still are,” she said, giving a delicate touch to her sore cheek.

“That’s quite a shiner,” he said, between taking swigs. “You know, I think purple’s really your colour.”

“It does make the green stand out, I agree,” she said, nursing her own drink and looking down at its metal tab, thumbing it. “So,” she began, straightening up. “Enough about colour theory. How are _you_ doing, anyway?”

“Well, EDI could shut up a little more, but other than that, all systems go. Little shake in the aft port thruster I’m having Kenneth check out.”

“Mm, I read your report,” she said, leaning her chin on her hand, framing her face. “But that’s not what I’m getting at.” Looking to one side, she continued, “I appreciate that the last time I asked you for drinks, I had to get on your case about something as well… But, that’s not what’s going on here. I really am just asking after you,” she said, meeting his eyes again. Seeing an enticing spark within those green spaces, that warm look making him want to lose himself within it - triggering an immediate, old and fearful instinct to shut it down; Bury it.

“Pfft, what a question. You want to know what’s going on with me? You know, _aside_ from ancient murder machines on a death march towards us and people being _poached_ by giant walking bugs? _Nothing_ . There really isn’t an ‘ _aside from that,_ ’ Commander,” he snapped. Shepard was quiet for a moment, taken aback.

With the set of her jaw and the way her brows came together, she looked a little lost, searching for the right words as she gazed out the window.

“On reflection… You’re right. That makes perfect sense. I realise… I was looking for a more positive answer from you, and that’s not fair to ask from anybody right now.” She said. “I think… I was looking to hear that _someone_ was okay. Given the circumstances, that’s selfish of me. Nobody’s okay right now.” She said, her features shifting away from those of hurt confusion and into a mask of calm. Giving him a curt nod, she added, “I apologise.”

Tapping his finger on the table, he thought,

 _You’re the person with the least amount of time in the galaxy, and you thought you’d use it to talk to_ _me_ _. And what do you get as thanks? You get your head bitten off for the crime of giving a shit, just like anyone who tried before you._

“Those are some real gold medal mental gymnastics, Shepard, but... You aren’t being selfish for just asking me how I’m doing, and for hoping that I tell you I’m okay,” he said.

“You don’t need to protect my feelings,” she insisted, with a placid, yet genuine smile. “Don’t worry. I’m glad we had this talk. I understand,” she said.

“I _don’t_ think you do,” he replied.

“Well… We both know you’re not a social butterfly. You don’t make a habit of spending time with anyone, and yet here I am, pulling you away during your time off. It’s perfectly acceptable for you to prefer doing something else. In the meantime, I think my Miranda-proof excuse will have worn out. She’ll be breathing down my neck any second now for those reports.”

 _Please,_ he thought. _Don’t hide from me. I’m trying to figure out how to deal with this… Thing._

“Eh, I doubt it.” He said, sliding his hand up under his cap. “It’s only been a few minutes. I know those drugs are good, but I think you can stand to procrastinate a little longer.” He said, studying her as she shifted in her seat.

“Joker, I couldn’t mark your escape route any more clearly if I had _beacons_ in my hands,” she said, dryly. 

“I know. But, unless it’s an, uh, order…? I don’t need one. I don’t wanna make a big deal about it or anything, but I actually look forward to it when you come home, and not just because you saved the day or whatever. I mean, that’s part of it… And sure, I do a job for you, but you’ve never talked down to me.”

“When I come home, huh?” She echoed, absently.

“Yeah. It’s like that, to me,” he replied with a shrug. “Maybe not to most people. But it is to me.”

“I see,” she said, pausing to sip at her drink before adding, “ _Coming_ _home_ is the highlight of my day… For several reasons.” Pausing to look out the window, she continued, “There are quite a few good souls on this ship. But there’s nobody I trust more, or in quite the same way, than the way that I trust in you. I’m glad you’re here.”

Her remark sent a sweet, electric little thrill crackling its way through him. Choosing to focus intently on the empty drink in his hands, he cleared his throat before responding,

“Eh. You know. I’ll always be right over there,” gesturing toward the front end of the ship. “There, with my things.”

“Yes, you’ve said before.” Shepard’s eyes darted towards her Omnitool, glowing softly to life on her forearm. Grimacing as she tapped it, her doleful glance met his as she said through a sigh, “Mm, I see my leash is being yanked. Had a little bit too much time out in the yard, it would seem.”

“Need a ghostwriter? Free up a little time for you?” He asked, with a grin deliberately calculated to be irritating. “Plenty of it up there. Just saying.” Shepard shot him a look as she stood up, making him laugh.

“Oh _how_ sweet,” she said, rolling her eyes, “but something tells me Miranda would spot your _academic distinctiveness_ a mile off.”

“Ooh, the reports are _for_ Miranda? I can promise I would give it a _solid_ … Thirty percent effort. …No?” He shrugged as he watched her walking off, muttering under her breath and tapping away into the Omnitool. “Have it your way!”


	5. Familiarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard realises she's being unfair to someone. Some equipment is busted. Little words go a long way. My summaries are good, what do you mean

_"I can see a new horizon underneath the blazing sky_

_I'll be where the eagle's flying higher and higher_

_Gonna be your man in motion_

_All I need is a pair of wheels_

_Take me where the future's lying_

_Saint Elmo's fire"_

_Man in Motion, John Parr_

Wiping her armour’s left pauldron down with a soft cloth, Shepard ran her fingers over the knurled plating and down its smooth side, stopping where they met a wide red stripe bordered by two white lines.

 _This place is so different from the Alliance,_ she thought, frowning. _I miss the old ship. Easier on the eyes… This place is a little too shiny. Too glittery. What kind of stealth ship looks like a luxury liner on the inside?_ She wondered, remembering back to the first time setting foot inside her quarters aboard the _SR2_ ; Lowering the light levels immediately. Occasionally, as Shepard walked around the ship, she still expected to find different rooms in different places, different people than those she found at their stations. _I don’t usually think about it too much… But with most of the crew out on shore leave, it’s difficult not to notice. It’s like a ghost ship in here,_ she thought. Briefly, Shepard entertained the idea of exploring Illium’s gleaming spires and hidden backstreets herself, but dismissed the idea. _My intent is to let Miranda off the ship for a while, not saddle her with the deck right now. Maybe she’ll be less wound up when she gets back, that way…_

“EDI, who’s on board at the moment?” She asked, looking up towards a little grey box in the hall. With a slight hum, the spherical representation of EDI appeared, hovering above it.

“Chief Medical Officer Chakwas, Yeoman Chambers, Jack, Helmsman Moreau, Ensign Patel, Armoury Officer Taylor, and Chief Gunnery Officer Vakarian are aboard, Commander.”

“That’s all, huh?” She thought aloud, realising with some amusement, “Even Grunt and Samara have gone ashore. I wonder what they’re up to?” Rubbing at the back of her neck, she sat down on the side of her bed, looking out towards the grey light of an overcast day streaming in.

Disturbing her reverie, a series of loud, repetitive banging noises reverberated through the roof. Instinctively looking up towards the ceiling, she thought,

_Ah, yes. The work crews will be getting that Silas plating fitted for a while yet… Guess I can count out catching up on some sleep._

In the corner of the Hangar on Deck Five sat a gym, modest by the standards of everything else Cerberus had seen fit to add to the _Normandy_. Shepard stepped in, noting Jacob Taylor lifting weights, and directed her eyes to the treadmill.

“Afternoon, Commander,” he said, his voice tight as he pulled up a heavy looking set of barbells.

“Taylor,” she replied, politely. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, she could not help but recognise something familiar in the ways he moved, setting her on edge. His broad shoulders tapering down into a thick, powerful core, his stance confident and yet reserved. With a pang of guilt, Shepard realised, stealing a sidelong glance at him as she stood atop the treadmill,

 _I don’t actually like you. At all. But you’ve never given me a reason why not to. You’ve always been polite, professional, and just what I’d expect out of someone in your position._ As she started running, she watched his translucent reflection in the window overlooking the hangar. It was almost as if there was a heavy fog surrounding Jacob, permeating his every thought and every word. _Is there a ‘serious’ way to say that a person has their head in the clouds?_ Shepard wondered. The grace so readily apparent in his every move, the sense of precision and control… _These are all good things about you, and yet I can’t stand it. I can’t stand to even look at you properly, and I don’t know why. It isn’t fair on you._

A scent like chlorine hanging heavy in the air sparking a memory within her, Shepard picked up the pace, trying to ignore it.

 _There was a time when that smell gave me a bit of a thrill,_ she thought, darkly, watching a blue arc of biotic energy flash in that reflection, hearing the distinctive sound as a mass effect field surrounded one of the weights. The rush of displaced air blowing a breeze across her hot back, even that pleasant sensation making her glower watching the barbell floating across the room end over end, as if it were made of dust. He caught her looking in the reflection and smiled, saying,

“Don’t worry, I won’t smack you in the head with it, I got it under control. Just practising a little. Gotta stay sharp!”

A sinking feeling overcame her upon reading his expression.

_He probably has to deal with a lot of people making all kinds of assumptions about him._

“Oh, I know you’ve got it,” she replied. “But what’s the biggest one you can lift?” She asked between breaths, nodding towards the weight rack. Running at a steady pace, she watched as he moved his arms in a very practised manner. The scent of chlorine intensified, accompanied by two large barbells dislodging from their racks enwreathed in blue, floating up to join the third. “Damn, Taylor, that’s gotta weigh as much as three krogans!” She exclaimed, slowing to a stop and breathing hard.

“Got a stitch, Commander?”

“You’d think with all that running for my life I do, I wouldn’t have,” she replied, pressing her hand to her ribs. She watched him gesture, the weights answering as if called back to their racks. Their blue bubbles disappeared, and turning to face her, he said,

“Don’t just press. Pinch the skin right over it and pull. It sounds counterintuitive, but it works.”

“Huh. I’d never heard of that before.”

“Old runner’s trick. My old man and I used to go running when I was a kid.” He said, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “Not going out to port?” He asked, wiping his face with a towel, and fetching one for Shepard from the stand next to him.

“Thanks,” she said, taking the towel. “No, I’m staying put this time. I’m the Commander, may as well command.” Folding the towel in her hands and placing it under her arm, she said, “Speaking of… I’m going to go get cleaned up.” 

Just the way that he nodded, turned back to his weights, and stood pondering over what to do next hit her like a ton of bricks. A knot grew in her throat as she walked away.

_I don’t like him because he reminds me of Kaidan. …Ugh. Time for a shower._

With warm rivulets of water snaking down her shoulders, Shepard took a moment to close her eyes against the flow, grateful for her quarters’ private showers. Heat and soap scrubbing clean more than just the body, she laid her head against the wall, welcoming a sense of peace, however temporary.

 _I might not have been looking at this from Kaidan's perspective,_ she reasoned. _I think it's being more fair to him to say that I don't actually know how I'd have reacted, if it were the other way around. I like to_ _think_ _I do._ _I_ _i magine_ _I do. But I might've just told him where to go, too._

Leaning into the warmth down her back as if it were a reassuring presence in its own right, she considered,

_There's no denying that I'm still angry. I think I just have to let myself be angry and see what happens. Life went on, for him, and things aren’t the same. There's a lot going on, maybe I should let some life go on, too._

Stepping out of the shower and into her clothes, Shepard focused on clearing her mind and on folding her hands behind her back, straightening up and lifting her chin.

 _‘Look the part, feel the part,’ she always used to say…_ Shepard thought to herself, bringing to mind a vague mental picture of her mother, half-forgotten. _At least, I think she did._

The CIC felt larger with less in it. In no small part, this was due to the second incarnation of the ship simply being larger, but it felt punctuated somehow by the fact that Kelly Chambers stood alone next to Shepard’s private terminal, looking lost in thought and absorbed in a datapad. Apparently detecting footsteps, she turned around.

“Oh, hello, Commander. Quiet around here, isn’t it? I suppose it’s nice, in a way,” she said, giving her characteristic cheerful smile. Shepard stepped towards the computer terminal, pulling up her inbox.

“Why aren’t you out enjoying the sights, Kelly?” She asked, scanning through the subject lines before adding, “Well, there’s a shock. It’s empty.” Kelly smiled, remarking,

“You know, I think I just might, soon. There’s plenty of time. To be honest, though, for the most part it’s kind of fun staying around here. I like seeing people come and go, and just listening to all the sounds of the ship. Those few who aren’t out on shore leave are a lot more relaxed, too.” Giving a playful squint at Shepard, she added, “Even you, I think!”

A dull roar reaching their ears from the front end of the ship, Shepard tilted her head.

“Sound really does carry in here, doesn’t it?” She mused aloud. Sighing, Kelly explained,

“Well, _almost_ everyone’s more relaxed. _One_ guess at who’s been complaining all afternoon about the new monitors he _specifically_ ordered.” Looking towards the cockpit in puzzlement, Shepard paused to listen in to some of the cursing.

_“- No, EDI, it’s_ _absolutely_ _different! It_ _isn’t_ _the same setting, stop giving me that bullshit!_ _I have _ _eyes!”_

“What, is there something wrong with the ones he received?” Shepard asked. Kelly’s friendly face becoming etched with lines of frustration, she shook her head.

“Not that I can see, but you know how he is,” she replied diplomatically, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath before continuing, “His old setup worked just fine. I don’t know why he asked me to requisition him new ones if he didn’t want the displays to look different.” Shepard chuckled softly in response, giving her a knowing smile and crossing her arms.

“Don’t make the mistake of trying to understand your pilot, Kelly. They’re a very special breed.”

“He’d been in such a good mood lately, too,” she said, looking deflated.

“Well, of course,” answered Shepard, rolling her stiff shoulder. “His baby’s being upgraded.” Following Shepard’s longing look towards the galaxy map, Kelly tapped her finger on her datapad, tilting her head as she asked,

“Anxious to get going, Commander?”

“I’ll be just fine,” Shepard replied. “I think I’m just restless. When I stand still, I start to think, and when I start to think, I think too much.”

“I could rescind shore leave?” Kelly suggested. “I want you to be happy, Commander. If being ready to get up and get going sounds good to you, I’ll be glad to make that happen.”

Shepard closed her eyes, shaking her head,

“No, the crew needs a break, and everyone milling about won’t help these upgrades get finished any faster.”

“Hmm. That’s true. Well, why don’t you take advantage of the time, too? You want to come with me?” Kelly asked, flashing a hopeful smile. “I know a few places to go around here.”

“You know what… I’d like that,” she replied, her smile fading as she explained, “It _will_ have to wait until Miranda comes back, however. She’s actually gone and set foot off the ship, you know.”

“Ah… Heavy is the head that wears the crown, Commander…” Kelly replied with a shrug, the disappointment evident in her tone. “I know that you have a lot to do.”

“We’ll go out, Kelly. I won’t forget that you’ve asked.”

_“Your calculations are_ _wrong_ _! Run ‘em again, there’s a delay!”_

Both women turned their heads towards the cockpit cacophony.

“...All _day_ , you say?” Shepard asked. Taking Kelly’s polite sigh as confirmation, she said, “I’ll go and see what he needs. Let me know when Miranda returns, alright?” Shepard said, smiling over her shoulder.

“Hah, yes Ma’am!”

  
  


The din quieting to a low growl as Shepard approached, she watched Joker slumping over onto his armrest, one hand thrust forward into a holographic array, muttering under his breath as he turned the rings surrounding his hand this way and that.

“Love them that much, huh?” She said just behind his chair, startling him.

“ _Please,_ _don’t_ _do_ that!” He complained through gritted teeth in a voice halfway between a hiss and a snarl. Then, catching himself, he sat back, pulling his hand from the display and pinching the bridge of his nose instead, casting a stormy look into the screens before him. Placing a gentle hand on his seat’s headrest, Shepard looked down into the displays to allow him a moment to collect himself.

“I know you’re not angry at me,” she said, letting his irritation roll off her like water off a duck’s back. “You’re angry at whatever’s going on here. Tell me.”

“Yes,” he said, after a long delay. “Okay. There are a few things with this setup that are pissing me off. I’ve been at this for hours trying to make this work. These displays look wrong, and they feel wrong, but nobody believes me.”

“You’re not going to like this,” she said, leaning down a little closer, “but they look the same as before to me.” Watching as he bit back a comment, she continued, “Can’t EDI adjust them for you?”

Materialising from nothing, the hologram glowed, drawing both their attention as it explained,

“Mr Moreau found the settings I chose to be unsatisfactory. He is very particular with his needs. I optimised the screens in accordance with the human eye’s optical capabilities.”

“They were too _bright_ , EDI,” he growled. “Besides, that’s not the main problem. This is,” he said, calling up the set of holographic rings. Watching them resize, conforming to his hand, she studied them carefully as they tracked his movement. “Do you see that!?” He exclaimed, expectantly. His expression darkening at her lack of immediate response, he looked off to the side in a concessionary manner, adding, “No… No one could see it. You have to _feel_ it. Look, it’s calibrated to me, but, here,” he said, taking her left hand, leading it toward the display and placing it underneath his own. A tingling sensation filled her fingers as he tilted their hands together, first left, then right.

“Oh,” she said, aloud. “Those haptics are a little strange, aren’t they?”

“Yes! I knew _you’d_ get it!” He said, enclosing her hand in his as he spoke, his touch gentle. “This is supposed to be the latest model, but the latency is crazy. Nobody believes me, but I’m here with this thing all day. I know what the controls should feel like.”

“Relax. I got this,” she assured him. “I’m sure you could adjust, but, we won’t leave until you have what you need,” she added, offering a soft smile.

“We have time?” He asked. “I mean, these aren’t exactly run of the mill.”

“I know… But, neither are you,” she replied, warmly. Something like an appreciative smile flickered across his features, almost too quick to register, but as their eyes met, she found she couldn't quite tear herself away, reminded of ryncol and compliments. “Joker,” she said gently.

“Yeah…?”

“Can I have my hand back?”

Withdrawing back onto the keyboard, he murmured,

“Didn’t realise I'd… Yeah. Bit outta line.” Flustered, he cleared his throat, saying, "I'm just glad you understand, Commander. Guess I had a little bit of a _human_ moment, there, heh. Don't tell Chambers. She'll have a field day with proof I'm not a robot."

Raising one eyebrow at him in a quizzical expression and leaning the crook of her arm on his seat’s headrest, she hesitated for a moment, mind working rapidly.

 _Maybe he really meant that little comment in the Mess a while ago. Maybe,_ she thought, observing the pointed way he was now avoiding looking at her, _I’ve been missing something_ _very_ _obvious, here._ Little butterflies taking flight in her stomach, she cast a look behind her just to ensure no one was there before drawing a little closer, keeping her voice just loud enough for him to hear,

“I asked for my hand back, for now… But, I never said you couldn’t have it again, if you wanted.”

“I - wait… what…?” He asked, turning in his seat to look up at her, stunned. “What do you mean by that?”

“You could tell me what _you_ think it means, and I’ll tell you if you’re on the right track,” she replied, her tone low, almost like a purr. For once, Joker looked utterly speechless. For an expressive man whose machinations always lay plain upon his face, in studying his expression now Shepard saw that he didn’t appear to have even a single hamster at the wheel inside his mind; Everything at a crashing halt for several seconds.

 _Very cute,_ she thought, smirking at the way his cheeks flushed, noticeable even in the warm glow of the monitors. Catching sight of a green light appearing on the comms panel, she straightened up, pulling away from his seat and smoothing down her jacket.

“I should go,” she said, nodding towards the little light. Tapping at the console, Joker patched it through without a word, leaning out on his armrest to watch her walking away with perhaps slightly more saunter than strictly necessary.

* * *

_I could’ve stopped her from going, and asked her to dinner, or… Maybe I should’ve said, ‘You know, I think no matter where I might want your hand to go, you have a call coming in,’ or… ‘What if I ask for more than just to take your hand,’ or… Man, what am I thinking?_

Cutting into the front of the little Mako’s chassis with his modeling knife, he let the bit sliced out drop into a container. Slowly guiding the blade into a series of precise nicks, it was beginning to look just like it did in his memory. For what felt like the hundredth time, he recalled Shepard’s sultry look, the way she perched on his chair, _daring_ him to give a voice to what he wanted.

 _That hand on the back of my chair,_ he remembered, the old nightmare surfacing again as he worked, pressing a plate out of alignment on the Mako’s left side. Letting the feelings fight each other like varren in a ring, he thought,

 _Maybe I feel selfish for thinking about her like this. But… She kinda came on to_ _me_ _?_ An old insecurity rearing its ugly head within him, he paused, thinking, _Maybe I’m suspicious. What would Shepard want with the guy made out of glass? She has her pick of pretty much anybody and picks me? Maybe it’s some kind of trap. Some kind of way to lure me into being vulnerable so she can get back at me for - No. No,_ he arrested his own thought, shoving it to the side. _That’s nuts._ _Actually_ _nuts. Get a grip._

_Okay._

Picking up a tiny jar of silver paint, he set to work touching all the little dents and edges, making its surface look weathered and beaten.

“There you are… Ugly and beautiful, just like I remember you,” he said aloud, holding it up to the light for a moment.

_It’s kinda funny, in a way I wasn’t as nervous back when I made that drop as I am right now. I guess something in me always knew I could pull it off._

Twice, he brought up his Omnitool, and twice, it dimmed back into nothingness, timing out.

 _She is the_ _fucking_ _Commander_ _,_ a little voice in the back of his mind started up. _What if I’m reading way too much into this and screw this up, somehow? What if I end up grounded,_ _again_ _? Can she do that?_ _Would_ _she do that?_ Looking down at the dented up little tank, sitting on the floor in a pool of harsh work lamp light, he sighed, nodding to himself. _She’s also_ _the_ _Commander, and she’s always been good to me. Right from the word ‘Go.’ She trusts me, time to return the favour._

Pulling up his email, he tapped out a message:

_To: Shepard, B_

_Subj: I Have a Thing for You_

_Body: Pretty much what the title says, except also there’s a physical object I wanted to give to you so, let me know._

_Wow_ _. Okay, delete that one._

_To: Shepard, B_

_Subj: Subject_

_Body: Can we talk?_

_Too ominous. I’d be distracted all day by an email like that._

_To: Shepard, B_

_Subj: Earlier_

_Body: I’ve been thinking about what you said and I wanted to talk about it. Also I’ve got something I want you to have._

_Jesus, I’m not a_ _geth_ _._

_To: Shepard, B_

_Subj: L’esprit de l’escalier_

_Body: Look it up. Anyways, I want to give you something. Let me know and I’ll come by._

_Yes. Okay._

Laying back on his bunk for just a moment led to him slipping into the state between wakefulness and dreams. Images dancing on the backs of his eyelids describing other times, other realities where maybe he'd done or said something different, and there were no Reapers, no Collectors, no freak combinations of flesh and machine to worry about. Just gleaming planets with glittering cities hiding only the normal kinds of mysteries.

A gentle pulsing around his forearm nudging him awake, he tapped his Omnitool open, looking at it with just one squinting eye.

_From: Shepard, B_

_Subj: RE: L’esprit de l’escalier_

_Body: Looked it up. I’m sure if I hadn’t been called away you’d have come up with something. But, if you do have the perfect comeback, I’m all ears, now or later._

He smiled, letting the Omnitool fade.


	6. Songbirds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joker gives Shepard the model. Shepard faces something of a ghost.

_“‘Cause I feel that when I’m with you_

_It’s alright, I know it’s right_

_And the songbirds are singing_

_Like they know the score”_

_Fleetwood Mac, Songbird_

Joker stood at the entrance to her quarters, the model gripped in one hand, tapping on his Omnitool with the other. Upon hearing the doors open, he stepped back, still consumed with finishing his email.

“And…  _ Done _ . Hey. Figured there’s no time like the present,” he said with a shrug, looking up to see Shepard leaning against the doorframe. He noted with some surprise that she wasn’t wearing her usual high collared jacket, but a rather loose-fitting black hooded sweatshirt.

“Sure. I don’t know if you’re a tea kinda guy, but I just made some,” she said, gesturing for him to step inside.

“Not… really? But I guess I’ll make an exception.” 

“It’s not like I have a gun to your head,” she said over her shoulder through a friendly smile, descending a few stairs and turning towards the table. Stepping carefully over a thick cable laying across the floor to follow her, the single picture on the desk flickering to life drew his eyes. Kaidan’s stern features appeared, looking off somewhere out of frame. That slithering feeling of eels threshing about in his stomach returning as he took a seat at the edge of the long couch, Joker watched her pour herself some tea from a decanter, sitting down next to him at a polite distance.

_ How far did their relationship go? _ He wondered, watching her adopt a relaxed posture with her arm draping over the top of the couch. The swirling caustics from the fishtank in the wall opposite cast patterns across her, creating an almost ethereal picture of calm in sharp contrast to his own nervous energy. Crushing the feeling down as best he could, he said,

“So. Grunt back to only smashing things into a pulp when you tell him to now?”

“Yes. I’m not quite sure how it works, but he seems better now. Wrex said it had something to do with puberty. Still seems wound up, though that might just be how he is,” she said, shrugging.

“Yeah, I know how he feels.”

“Did you hear after we came back, a pile of breeding requests came in for him?” She asked, blowing the steam from her tea. Looking up at him, she laughed as she said, “I got one, too.”

“Damn, I  _ can _ turn this thing around, you know, if you wanna bag yourself a krogan boyfriend.”

Lifting her mug up and looking off thoughtfully, Shepard grinned.

“Maybe. He wrote me a ballad. Said I was a ‘ _ rough- hewn jewel amid the rocks _ ,’ she said, gesturing airily. “Pretty accurate if you ask me.”

“Too true,” he said, copying her exaggerated tone. “But aren’t krogans all about having kids? Gonna struggle with that little detail, I think.”

“Pretty sure he wasn’t thinking that far ahead,” she said, taking another mouthful of tea. “Speaking of being wound up, should I even ask why you haven’t gone for shore leave? In my experience, Illium has plenty of things that feel like your kinda deal.”

“Eh, not this time. I’m sorta focussed on what’s going on here with those monitors,” he said with a shrug, adding, “also, what if we needed to leave right away? Can’t just leave you with some green Cerberus upstart at the helm while I’m still dragging myself back to port.”

“As opposed to a grouchy ex-Alliance upstart?” She asked, raising her eyebrows. “But really, good answer. I’d sooner actually kiss that krogan than have anyone else fly her.”

“I  _ am _ the best. In fact, I’m  _ so _ the best that I brought you a monument to my greatness that you can put in your cabinet. Here,” he said, placing the model on the table. Shepard picked it up, turning it around in her hands.

“It looks just like it did,” she said quietly, marvelling at the detail. “Thank you for this.” She continued to turn it over, cracking a smile as she ran her finger over a dislodged plate. “You called this my work, but this here is yours, I’m sure. We hit the ground hard that time.” Turning its little turret, she asked, “How long have you been making these?”

“Since I was a kid. My mom got them for me to make when I was in the hospital, to kill time. I got a lot of practise, in the end,” he explained. “You ever do anything like that? When you were a kid, I mean?”

She smiled, looking away, one hand touching behind her ear.

“It’s a little embarrassing, actually. After my parents died, I got into tons of fights. Just… Everyone. Anyone. All the time. Someone looked at me funny? On the floor. You get the picture,” she said, clearing her throat in a contrite manner. “And so the…  _ powers that be _ assigned me a therapist. And that therapist told me to write a haiku whenever I had a feeling I didn’t understand. As a troubled kid… I also got a lot of practise, in the end.” Delicately placing the Mako on the coffee table, she crossed one leg over the other.

“That is… Not the answer I expected,” he replied, shaking his head in bemusement.

“As a result,” she continued, pausing to sip tea. “It’s not exactly the most  _ exciting _ party trick, but I can more or less come up with them on the fly.”

“Hey, I showed you my hobby, you show me yours.”

“I said I can  _ come up with them _ as I go, I never said I  _ share _ them,” she said, laughing over the rim of her mug. He waved a dismissive hand at her.

“Pfft, you can’t just say something like that and then  _ not _ do it.”

“I think you’ll find that as the Commander of this ship, I can do whatever I like.” She said, chuckling in a soft, easy way that drew him in a little closer.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, a note of slyness creeping into his voice. “Have some experience with that?”

Leaning closer to him on one arm, tilting her head and giving him a coy smile, she replied, “Joker, whatever do you mean?”

“Doing whatever you like.”

She was so  _ close _ to him. With his heart pounding in his chest, he placed his hand on hers. Seeing her eyes flick down to look made him hesitate.

“You know… I’m not much of a…  _ people person _ , but I make an exception for you,” he said, so quiet it was just above a whisper, sliding his hand all the way up to her shoulder. She met his eyes again, her forehead just brushing the bill of his cap.

“ _ When we were drinking _

_ Secret moonshine, you and I _

_ I wanted this, then _ ,” she breathed.

He could feel her fingers travel up his shoulder in answer to his touch. He gave no response but to close his eyes, pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was somewhat clumsy and unpractised, and as the seconds passed she parted from him, remaining nose to nose. His heart in the back of his throat, they shared a few breath’s pause. Joker got the feeling from the way she felt coiled tight, like a spring even as she pressed against him that she was holding back. Her touch however was tender and reserved in the way she took his face in her hands, guiding him into another kiss. Hers was slower, calmer, and deeper somehow; easy to give into.

But giving in wasn’t what he wanted. He  _ needed _ to plant lines of kisses down her neck, find that sweatshirt’s zipper and undo it, slipping his fingers under her soft shirt and feeling at last the smoothness of her skin beneath. She was exploring him, too, with delicate touches sweeping up his sides and the pleasurable sensation of her lips against his skin all serving to feed a certain sense of urgency. A sense she was sharing, given the light scrape of her teeth to his neck; her kisses turning into something more passionate, giving him goosebumps. All of it felt so good; so _ right _ . Angling himself against the back of the couch to pull her more atop him, she met his gentle insistence only with a soft kiss. He felt her palm pressing against the vinyl chest of his uniform.

“Hm…? Oh, I can take your weight, long as you’re careful,” he said, looking up at her, confused. Upon recognising her hesitation, he froze.

“Wait,” she said. “I need to think for a second, here.”

“Yeah? Uh, yeah, sure,” he replied, sitting up, the corner of his mouth pulling into an embarrassed frown. “Ah, shit. I took that a little far.”

“No, it’s not that,” she replied, putting her arm around him. “It’s just, how do I put this…” she said, giving his shoulder a little squeeze. He tensed up, looking at his feet.

_ Here it comes, _ he thought.  _ Here comes the ‘On second thought, we’re just friends,’ brace for impact. _

“I’m right there with you, but I’m… in a  _ weird place _ after what happened between Kaidan and I,” she said. 

He was quiet for a time. Trying to hide his embarrassment, with a hard tone he asked, “What  _ was _ all that? Were you just playing around to make yourself feel better?”

“Do you really think I could fake a kiss like  _ that _ ?” She asked in return. 

“I dunno,” he grumbled, pulling on his cap, “haven’t exactly got a lot to compare it to.”

“You don’t? I’m surprised,” she said.

“No. Look, this kinda thing never worked out for me, sorta on purpose. Being all touchy-feely when your bones are made out of uncooked spaghetti isn’t the greatest idea.”

“I see…” she said, trailing off. “That, um. Wasn’t your first kiss, was it?”

“No, but not that far off,” he replied. Shepard gave a slow and thoughtful nod. She sighed, touching her cheek to his shoulder as she said,

“To answer you directly, no, I wasn’t just playing around. You’re too important to me, and to be honest… I’ve always looked at you that way.” She smiled, shaking her head, a faraway look in her eye.

“Really? Since when?”

“Shortly after we met, I suppose. I couldn’t pinpoint it,” she said, running her hand through her closely clipped hair. “This has taken me by surprise, though… You definitely kept these cards close to your chest.”

“Eh. Seemed like the right thing to do at the time. After that, you know,” he mumbled. “So what… exactly, is the deal between you and him? I wouldn’t ask, but it’s sorta relevant at this point.” He scratched at the back of his head, thinking,  _ Asshole isn’t even  _ _ on the ship _ _ and he’s in the way. _

“On Horizon, he said I betrayed everything we all stood for. The word ‘loved,’ as in the  _ past tense _ , was used,” she answered. “It’s been two years for him, he grieved, and then I showed up as the expensive pet of what he considers a terrorist outfit. I’m not sure how anyone’s supposed to get over that.”

“ _ I _ did,” he said, shrugging. “I dunno. It wasn’t a hard choice for me. I’d go anywhere, do anything, for… you know,  _ you _ .” In response, Shepard slid both her arms around his middle, allowing her embrace to speak instead. A little unsure what to do with himself, he grinned down at her, remarking, “we should really get to the point. All this earnestness is gonna make me break out in hives.” 

“The point is,” she said, straightening up and looking him in the eye, “that with all this going on, you’re not a toy and I won’t treat you like one.”

“Hmm. Not even a  _ little _ ? What if I ask nice?” He asked with a playful grin. “Okay.  _ My _ point is, I trust you won’t screw me around.”

“I know that you trust me, Joker. It’s because of that that I’m hesitating. This is about me trusting myself,” she replied. He looked down at the table, considering her words.

“Okay,” he said after a moment, nodding. “You wanna know what I think?”

“That  _ is _ why I come up to see you so much.”

“No disrespect to the guy, but I think Kaidan  _ made _ his decision. He said what he said and then he left you standing there. I remember how you looked when you came home, and it pissed me off,” he said, glowering. “Look,” he continued, “I bet you’ve been waiting to hear something from him. When you do, if it’s  _ anything _ less than a  _ groveling apology, begging _ for us to come and pick him up, then I hope you stay mad about it, because  _ I would _ .”

At the sound of her clearing her throat, he turned his head to look at her. Misty-eyed, Shepard straightened up, masking over it. His hard expression softened as she wiped at her eyes, trying to play off the gesture by clearing her throat again. 

“Yeah, and maybe  _ he’ll _ write me a ballad, too, huh?” She asked, a hint of bitterness in her voice. Placing a considerate arm around her shoulders, he replied,

“I dunno about that, but I’ll have one on your desk by morning if you want. Just as long as you don’t ask me any follow-up questions about my creative process,  _ or _ ask EDI to look up the lyrics. Which won’t exist. Because it’ll be original, and definitely  _ not _ just from my database of really old music.”

“Ooh, thanks, you’re a real romantic,” she said with a sarcastic smile, leaning into him a little.

“I’m a real something,” he said. “Now the cat’s outta the bag, I may as well go full idiot and make you a mix. Hope you like turian opera.”

* * *

Taking his hand in hers, she drew circles in his palm with her thumb. His hands felt soft, in contrast to her own, somewhat calloused and rough. Taking a moment to look into his eyes, as she studied him she thought,  _ This is difficult. I’d like to get closer, but…  _

“I’m sorry this didn’t turn out quite like you thought it would, Joker,” she said through a sigh. “I wasn’t expecting to be confronted with an emotion like that.”

“Don’t apologise, that’s weird.”

“What I mean to say,” she began, entwining her fingers with his as she spoke, “is I like the idea of…  _ this _ . I can be candid with you, and it doesn’t change your perception of me. I’m comfortable with you. In a certain way, it’s always felt like it’s been  _ you and me against the world _ , and I like that.”

Half laying against his shoulder, she felt him resting his chin atop her head.

“Well, just don’t airlock me if I say something you don’t like one day,” he replied, sounding a little distant, perhaps sleepy.

“Oh, you’d have been a meat popsicle a few times by now if I was ever going to.”

“Not sure if I’m intrigued or intimidated,” he said with a grin.

They fell into a comfortable silence. She felt him shifting his weight to fit around her and despite the careful way in which he carried himself, she found having him relaxing up against her to be reassuring in a way she’d been aching for. The simple peace that comes from the warmth and pressure of another person, accented in no small way by the thrill of a fantasy fulfilled.

“Do you remember,” she said, breaking the silence, “how I used to come and just stand around on the bridge back then?”

“I thought you were doing it to ride my ass, at first,” he replied.

“Yeah, I know you did. I felt bad about that. It’s hokey, but, when I said I was there for ‘ _ the view _ ’ that one night, it was true. I just… didn’t mean the stars,” she admitted.

“Wow. That  _ is _ hokey, but under the circumstances, I’ll let you off with a warning.”

She couldn’t help it. Shepard leaned up and pecked his cheek, his beard tickling her nose. The gesture came so easily that she did it again, and again, until he turned to respond in kind. A certain kind of giddiness flooding through her, she didn’t notice the orange glow surrounding her forearm, pulsing, signifying a priority message. Without thinking, her hands started to wander down his arm and past the soft cotton sides of his uniform, stopping at the belt. As her fingertips started wandering a little further, he broke the kiss, saying,

“You might want to get that?”

Tapping her Omnitool, she brought up the email.

“Oh, what  _ now? _ ” She muttered, under her breath. “Somebody’s pyjak stuck up a tree?”

_ From: Alenko, K _

_ Subj: About Horizon…  _

Shepard felt colour drain from her face as a sharp, icy pain grew in her gut. It felt as if she had swallowed a mouthful of glass whole.

_ No. It’s not… No. What kind of… what is this? _

“Bad news?” Asked Joker.

“I need to deal with this right now,” she answered with a placid tone, donning a mask of authoritative calm before tearing her eyes away from the display. “We’ll talk later.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he said with a nod, collecting himself. As he reached the door, he added, “let me know if we’re going anywhere.” The look of plain concern he gave her before turning to go made her heart ache. Pausing in the doorway, he seemed to be considering his words for a second before saying, “it’ll be alright, Commander. Goodnight.” Then, he was gone. Shepard took a moment’s pause herself, staring at the door’s hatch before looking behind her, towards her personal terminal.

She slid into the chair at her desk, staring at the words glowing across the screen for what felt like hours before taking any of it in.

_ After what you said to me, why are you emailing me? Why would you send me a note  _ _ now _ _? _ She thought, envisaging Kaidan in his sleek black armour. Even the sight of him in her mind’s eye filled her with longing, sadness, and now a fresh layer of guilt.

_ Shepard, _

_ I'm sorry for what I said back on Horizon. I spent two years pulling myself back together after you went down with the Normandy. It took me a long time to get over my guilt for surviving and move on. I'd finally let my friends talk me into going out for drinks with a doctor on the Citadel. Nothing serious, but trying to let myself have a life again, you know? _

_ Then I saw you, and everything pulled hard to port. You were standing in front of me, but you were with Cerberus. I guess I really don't know who either of us is anymore. Do you even remember that night before Ilos? That night meant everything to me... maybe it meant as much to you. But a lot has changed in the last two years and I can't just put that aside. _

_ But please be careful. I've watched too many people close to me die -- on Eden Prime, on Virmire, on Horizon, on the Normandy. I couldn't bear it if I lost you again. If you're still the woman I remember I know you'll find a way to stop these Collector attacks. But Cerberus is too dangerous to be trusted. Watch yourself. _

_ When things settle down a little... maybe... I don't know. Just take care. _

_ \--Kaidan _

  
  


_ You’re sorry for what you said? You’re going out with some doctor, but it’s ‘nothing serious?’ What does ‘nothing serious’ mean? Do I  _ even remember _ the night before Ilos? _ Shepard snorted aloud as she read the accusation, her eyes brimming with tears, struggling to suppress them as she absorbed his words.  _ Do I  _ _ even _ _ …? It’s all I could think about. _ She took a moment to stare hard at the picture frame to her left before continuing.

_ When things settle down… Wait, you don’t know? What? _

“What do you mean, you  _ don’t know _ ?” She snapped aloud, leaning back in her chair with incredulity. Placing her hand to her forehead, she let out a deep, shuddering breath, working to steady the flood of tears she could feel prickling behind her eyes. Over and over, she read his message trying to find something else, some hidden meaning in his words.

_ Kaidan, why didn’t you come and get me? _ She wondered, leaning her chin on her fist as she read the email for the umpteenth time.  _ You know I wouldn’t be with Cerberus if I had a choice. When you heard I was alive, why didn’t you come and get  _ _ me _ _? Why was the onus on me to fix the situation? Rank and file be fucked, I’d have come for  _ _ you _ _. _ Her mind wandering again down these well-trodden paths, Shepard stared once more at the photograph. ”You can’t just take back those things you said,” she whispered towards his likeness. “Just apologising doesn’t fix it. _ Nothing _ fixes it.” Despite herself she picked up the frame from the desk, cradling it in her lap a moment.

“If you walked in through that door right now, I’m not sure if I’d kiss you or kick you,” she hissed, even as she held it to her chest in silence. Shepard slumped in her seat as if a set of weights had just been dumped on her shoulders. Thinking about earlier; how warm she’d felt in Joker’s arms, how easily they had fit together. It was all at once a pleasure and a horror to think about him. Calling to mind images of how bright his eyes looked with his guard lowered, a pang of guilt blossomed in her chest.

_ I’ve been thinking of myself. This must be terrifying for him. _

_ I have to make sure Joker knows he can walk away. Fuck, he probably  _ _ should _ _.  _ Shepard opened a drawer in her desk, making as if to shut the picture within, but finding herself unable to commit to sealing Kaidan’s image away. Hesitating, she thought,  _ I’m in this mess because I was irresponsible. I ignored the wisdom behind those regs. Kaidan was my subordinate, but somehow I convinced myself that he was different. Just look at the damage that’s done to us both. Can I really justify not protecting Joker, too? _

With a slow, tentative movement, she replaced the picture on the desk, resting one finger on its top, considering.

_ A bit late for that. Joker’s in this  _ _ up to his neck _ _ and I didn’t just  _ _ let _ _ it happen, I  _ _ made _ _ it happen. What a fucking mess, _ she thought with a sigh, lowering the frame face down on the desk, and flicking its emitter off.


	7. Vectors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a girl's night out! What can go wrong? Right?
> 
> "Well... We're back... in the Medbay... Again."  
> "Yes, but at least we're out of the tree."

__

_ “Maybe I’m wrong _

_ Won’t you tell me if I’m coming on too strong _

_ This heart of mine has been hurt before _

_ This time I wanna be sure” _

_ Foreigner, Waiting For a Girl Like You _

All meetings, all day.

_ All I want is a minute to think, _ she thought, poised in front of the coffee maker, the countertop digging into the heels of her palms. Staring through the wall rather than at it, Shepard ignored the prickling sensation of eyeballs boring into the back of her head.  _ I really know how Grunt felt when he said he just wanted to kill something with his hands. _

“Um, Commander?” Came a soft voice from behind her left. “The, uh. It’s finished brewing.”

Relaxing her shoulders and unclenching her jaw, Shepard stood up straight and attempted to loosen up.

“So it has. Don’t worry, Kelly. I’m not about to bite anyone’s head off today,” she said, picking up the carafe and adding, “yet, anyway. Night’s still young.” She took a sip, blanching at the taste.

“That’s good to hear,” replied Kelly. Shepard watched her over the rim of her mug. The woman looked as though she were walking on eggshells, glancing over at the corner of her eye as she fixed her coffee.

"You wanted to go out, didn't you?" Shepard asked, resuming her thousand yard stare. "I could use some time away from here if you're still interested."

“Ooh, yeah I’ll email you about it, Commander!” Kelly chirped, heading off to the table where Dr Chakwas sat, reading. Shepard furrowed one eyebrow watching her brisk pace, as if Kelly expected to be singed from behind somehow.

_ Hmm.  _ Leaning back against the counter again, she surveyed her domain, narrowing her eyes.  _ Gardner missed a spot mopping. _ Spending several minutes in thought, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of bad coffee, she replayed the meetings from earlier in her mind. She micro-analysed her department heads, finding new and exciting ways to find fault with their performance.

“Hey Commander,” issued a friendly voice from next to the coffee machine. She felt her whole body stiffen. Didn’t even need to look at him.

_ Please, please, not now, Joker _ , she thought. 

“Enjoying the coffee? Gardner really went the extra mile with the battery acid this time.”

“Mm,” she replied.

“Uh- _ huh _ . So I wanted to -”

“I should really go,” she interrupted.

“... tell you that the monitors are fine now since the technician came by? Uh,” he continued. She could tell by his tone that he was affronted.

“I’m sorry. That was rude of me. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that,” said Shepard, offering him a brief, but contrite look, her arms folded to her chest and the mug still at her lips. “I’m glad it worked out. I just came down here for a minute, really. I have a lot left to do,” she explained, exasperated. “I’d better go and take care of it.”

“...Ma’am,” he replied, taking his own mug onto a tray, headed for a table. As she turned to leave, Shepard tried to bottle the feeling of her heart sinking by reminding herself,

_ Be  _ _ responsible _ _ , or it’ll be  _ _ his _ _ picture, next. _

  
  


* * *

  
  


_ What the fuck was  _ _ that _ _?  _ He thought, watching her go. As the sound of her footsteps disappeared, he caught Kelly trying to get his attention out of the corner of his eye.

“Psst,” she hissed. “C’mere.”

For her part, Dr Chakwas looked up from her datapad, then resumed reading.

“Why are you trying to be so inconspicuous, Chambers?” He asked, shaking his head as he sat down across from her. “Alright then, Agent Double-Oh-Nothing. What is it?” 

“Commander’s on the warpath today. Best to stay out of her way.”

“My hero, you warned me in the nick of time,” he said dryly.

“I’d have told you earlier but I didn’t see you come in here. She’s so  _ scary _ when she’s mad,” Kelly said, eyes darting in the direction Shepard had disappeared.

“Eh, she’s got a lot on her mind,” he said, shrugging one shoulder, grumbling under his breath, “man, this coffee’s  _ really  _ bad.”

“Oh, she told you about it then, did she? That’s good,” replied Kelly, looking relieved.

“Told me what?”

“Oh. Whoops,” she replied with a sheepish wince. “I thought… I shouldn’t say, then.”

Joker looked over at Dr Chakwas, who reached for her tea, appearing absorbed in her work.

“Told me  _ what _ ?” He repeated, directing the question towards her.

“I’m sorry, Jeff, did you say something to me?” Chakwas answered, blinking as she looked up. He snorted.

“Oh  _ come on,  _ I don’t buy that. What  _ is it _ with everybody today?” Joker complained, stabbing at a cube of synthetic beef on his plate.

“I’m certain that I don’t know,” replied the doctor. Tapping her forearm to check the time on her Omnitool, she added, “it’s almost time for your physical, isn’t it?”

“That’s why I’m here,” he said, swirling the black liquid around in his mug. Joker observed Kelly folding and unfolding her hands, shifting about as though she’d sat on a pin. “Not a big poker player, are you, Chambers?”

She drew in a deep breath, tapping her index fingers together as she blurted, “Well, okay so just now she asked me to go off the ship with her since I offered to the other day, but you know how I have to monitor her emails as part of my job? Well, I try to avoid reading them if I can, but I read this one and I  _ really _ shouldn’t have, and I’m pretty sure I know why she’s feeling bad since I know that you -”

“Know that I  _ what, _ Chambers?” Joker asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Went upstairs to give her the model you made,” Kelly replied, her leg bouncing under the table. “I saw you head up there last night. I’m not making assumptions, but -”

“ _ Ahem _ ,” Dr Chakwas interjected, tapping on her Omnitool again. “I should think that’s  _ quite enough _ tea for today. If you’ll come with me, Jeff?” Standing up from the table she motioned towards her office.

Eyeing Kelly, Joker followed Chakwas towards her door.

* * *

The doctor shook her head as she entered the room, walking to a cabinet and removing several instruments.

_That Yeoman is young, well educated, and unfortunately gauche,_ thought the doctor. _She reminds me of myself some years ago._ _She’ll learn._

“Scales, please.” Chakwas said over her shoulder in a clipped tone. “You know where they are.”

“Yeah,” he said, already making his way over to stand on them. Looking at the display, she jotted his weight down.

“You don’t have anything in your pockets, do you? I do enjoy accuracy in my records,” she said. 

“Wait, was that your way of telling me I’m getting fat?”

“Oh, hardly,” she replied as she pushed his sleeve up a little further, fastening the cuff around his arm. He frowned, watching the cuff inflate.

“Hundreds of years and they can’t think of anything better than this thing. Why don’t you have a little beeping thing that just measures it? We live in the future, don’t we?” He grumbled.

“I shall be sure to put in a requisition order for a little beeping thing,” she said. “I’m used to these. They may be old, but they’re accurate. Now, before we move on to have a look at your teeth, would you like to address the elephant in the room, or shall I?”

“I thought you didn’t  _ deal  _ in rumours?”

“I don’t,” she replied. “That is precisely why I am taking this opportunity to ask you about Yeoman Chambers’ outburst directly.”

“Aren’t you worried that grilling me is gonna screw up your readings?”

“I’m afraid I know this dance too well, Jeff,” she said, leaning against a cabinet, waiting for the pressure readout. “The offer is simply there. I’m perfectly happy to go through your checks in silence if that is what you prefer, however, my experience tells me otherwise.” She crossed her arms, waiting for him to consider her words.

“If you’re so good at reading me, you tell me what’s going on,” he replied in a huff. The cuff hissed, deflating. “One twenty-one over seventy-eight,” he read aloud. “What’s the prognosis, doc? My life of hard drugs, fast women and rock and roll catching up with me?”

“Mm, slightly elevated,” she said, adding it to her notes. “As for your challenge, I dislike speculation, but my intuition tells me to advise you just to wait it out.”

“Wow. Cryptic  _ and _ specific at the same time. Have you considered a career in fortune telling? It’s all the rage on the Citadel these days.” He said, giving Chakwas what she knew to be an appreciative grin.

“I do believe if your mother were here, she’d tell you the same,” she said.

“Pfft, if she were here, she’d have a lot more to say than that. ‘You did _what_ with _who_? Are you _crazy_? Why can’t you be more like Hilary and bring home a _nice_ _girl_?’ I’d probably get the slipper treatment,” he said, laughing. Chakwas smiled.

“That does sound like your mother. But, I know her just as well as I do you, and I know our Commander also,” she said as she picked up a datapad containing last month’s bone density data. “Patience has never been your strong suit, but it  _ is _ a virtue, especially where it concerns matters of the heart. Now,” she continued, gesturing to the light scanner. “Has there been any trouble with chewing since the last treatment? Any discomfort in your jaw?”

“No,” he said. Looking up to meet her in the eye for the second time in as many years, he added, “Hey. What if she picks  _ him _ ?”

“The scanner, please.” Chakwas said, briefly touching her hand to his shoulder.

_ Ah, to be young again. _

* * *

The stars looked beautiful, if cold. It was strange to see them so still, with the lazy, silky clouds of Illium drifting in front of them. The air was crisp, tinged with the scent of the sea and it reminded Shepard of home.

_ On an alien world and still, it can feel just like that place.  _ Walking down the docking ramp and hearing the low rumble of wind in her ears, a smile came to her face along with the conscious realisation that she was not confined within any walls. Tucking her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket she looked off towards the gleaming skyscrapers of Nos Astra, dark pillars containing stars all their own. The sounds of a city that didn’t know how to sleep carried on the wind. Pausing just to take in the view, it was a few minutes before she turned around, hearing footsteps on the grating.

Kelly waved as she stepped out of the long docking corridor and onto the ramp. It took Shepard a second to recognise her out of uniform; a strappy red dress hugging her shape.

“Wow, Kelly, look at you! You went all out,” she said. “You sure you’re not going to get cold in that?”

“It’s a thermal dress, I’ll be fine, Commander,” Kelly laughed. “Come on, let’s go!” With the bag slung over her shoulder bouncing as she caught up to Shepard, all of her nervous energy from earlier in the day seemed to melt away at the sight of the city before them. 

“Wow, it really is gorgeous out here,” she breathed. “Sometimes I forget what anything outside the CIC really looks like. Not that I don’t like the CIC or anything like that.” 

“Yes. Sometimes it’s nice to just pretend like things are normal for a while,” replied Shepard, closing her eyes in the breeze, enjoying the way it flowed over her skin. “We won’t have the benefit of that for much longer.”

With Kelly placing her hand through the crook of Shepard’s elbow, they walked down the pier, arm in arm. Shepard looked down at the arm looped around her own, and allowed herself a smile.  _ That’s nice. _

“Where do you want to go?” Kelly asked. “I know a few places, but you’re the Commander!”

“I wanted to stretch my legs a bit. I don’t care where we go. I’m just glad for the company,” replied Shepard, and with a sigh she added, “I’m glad you came out. I wanted to apologise for being in such a bad mood earlier. I’m not always as good at hiding that as I like to think that I am.”

“It’s okay,” she said, “you’re human, too, you know,” she added, winking. “So if I’m in control of the destination tonight, how  _ classy _ are you feeling?”

“Probably around a four out of ten,” Shepard replied, smiling. “I’m not feeling a lot of social graces right now, but I also don’t  _ immediately _ want to have to flatten someone. I’m open to the idea, though.”

“I have just the place,” she replied, pulling on Shepard’s arm towards a taxi.

Leaning her head on the window, Shepard watched the city streaking by as they joined in the traffic filling the sky like so many fireflies. Flickering points of gold and orange blending together to cut lines in her vision, she enjoyed listening as Kelly flirted with the oblivious salarian taxi driver. A colossal holographic sign filled Shepard’s vision as the cab rounded a corner, showcasing an asari model in nothing but bodypaint with a tagline reading ‘ _ Ask and Receive _ .’ Illium was a strange place; the kind with a veneer of legitimacy painted thin over a vast and seedy underbelly.

“A-alright, ladies,” stammered the driver, the hovercar slowing to a stop at a kerbside hundreds of feet in the air. Summoning her Omnitool, Shepard touched it to a small square on the door, making a chime sound as both women stepped out of the car.

Shifting letters spelling out the words ‘ _ Star Tide’  _ in electric blue glowed across the top of the entrance to part of the skyscraper, standing out against its glossy, jet-black walls. As they approached the door from which music was pulsating, a turian bouncer looked them up and down. Flaring his mandibles in a gesture Shepard understood to be a polite greeting, he gestured for them to enter without so much as a word. When they stepped inside, they entered a world of curving black architecture accentuated with blue highlights. The walls were aquariums, much like the one Shepard had in her quarters and as she stood marvelling at the alien fish, Kelly sauntered over to the bar. Shepard watched her say something to the asari tender, and soon she was presented with some kind of colourful concoction in a wide-rimmed glass.

“Thanks,” she said into Kelly’s ear, just over the music. “You know better than to try to get me to dance, but I know  _ you _ can move. Let’s see you knock those guys off their feet,” she added, smirking as she glanced in the direction of a group of people, several of whom were looking back at Kelly as though she were a drink in a desert. Leaning back against the wall in front of the dance floor, sipping her cocktail, Shepard unzipped her jacket in the heat of the place and watched Kelly’s curves. She was a good dancer, and clad in that tight red dress she had an easy, flowing control over the way her hips moved that held Shepard’s eyes.

_ You know, _ she thought to herself over a mouthful of the thick, fruity drink,  _ if my life wasn’t already so complicated…  _

A somewhat gawky turian approached Kelly on the dance floor, his mandibles fluttering in nervous excitement as he tried matching her steps, keeping himself at a respectful, but plainly interested distance. Kelly’s bright smile up at him made Shepard smile too; it felt good to watch others be happy and as Kelly closed the distance between herself and the stranger, Shepard felt herself letting loose a little chuckle. He didn’t seem to know what to do, his hands hovering above Kelly’s hips, and when she put her arms up to stroke down the sides of his neck his whole body went rigid, like some kind of cartoon character. She took his hands and guided him into twirling and catching her. He looked back at his group of friends, pumping his fist in the air. Kelly copied him, laughing, and followed him back to his little cadre across the room.

Shepard lay her head back against the wall. Despite the feel of the heavy bass buzzing through her bones, her aural dampener did its job, keeping the sound at a tolerable volume and allowing her to pick out voices from the ambient sound. The drink was fragrant, sweet, and its effects tickled at the edges of her mind.

_ Truth is, I hate these kinds of places, _ she thought.  _ I never know what to do. I’m an embarrassing dancer and it’s too loud to properly talk for most. But I love to watch people.  _

Kelly and her new friend returned to the dance floor with several others in tow, all jumping to the beat. Making an effort to commit the image to memory, Shepard noted the way the coloured lights caught at the edges of all their shapes, the sparking of an excited asari’s biotics leaping from one shoulder to the other, the way Kelly’s carefree smile captured the room.

Out of the corner of her eye, Shepard saw a hulking presence lean in, darkening the wall next to her. Sliding her gaze to the left, she eyed the krogan trying to get her attention.

“Who’s your friend?” He asked, jutting his jaw in Kelly’s direction. Shepard raised her eyebrow.

“Who’s asking?” She replied.

“Huh,” the krogan said with mild surprise, looking her up and down. “I thought you were a man.”

“Charming. Who are you again?”

“An interested customer,” he said, the green eye closest to Shepard narrowing. “How much?”

“Not for sale,” she replied, coolly returning her focus to Kelly, who was being carried on her turian friend’s shoulders, her hands in the air.

“This is Illium,” he insisted, his arms akimbo, “ _ everything _ is for sale.” Shepard let a long sigh out through her nose.

“Listen, friend,” she said, letting her head loll to the side to look at him. “You’re clearly a man of some distinction. I can see we both have dampeners, which means we’re both in the business of trouble. Wouldn’t you say?”

“I would, and that’s why I’m offering to  _ pay _ ,” he insisted, lowering his head in a bid to show off the size of the flanged blue crests atop his head.

“I’m not rattled, big boy,” she sneered, looking back out onto the floor, changing her tactic. “Look, why don’t you get a drink from the bar, on me? Clear up this… misunderstanding.”

“I am leaving this dump in five minutes, and one way or another,  _ your  _ girl is coming with  _ me _ .”

“Try it, asshole.” Shepard stood up from the wall, her hands balling into fists and planting her feet square. “Give me an excuse.” She took a deep breath, placing one foot forward. The krogan looked her up and down.

“Wait, you’re the human from that fight on Tuchanka?” He asked, stopping himself from taking a step back. He met her answering silence with a grin. “Oh that is  _ rich, _ ” he said, his laughter rumbling as he snapped his fingers. In her peripheral vision, she saw two shapes snapping to attention.

_ Okay, I may have bit off more than I can chew, here. _

“Last warning,” she said, making one more effort to stare him down.

“If I didn’t want that girl so much, I might leave you alone just for having a quad,” he said, then drew in a sharp breath, headbutting her.

Shepard met him, also headfirst. Her fist flew up, connecting with the crest atop his head hard enough to split one of the plates.

Stars spiralling in her vision, she took a step back, shaking her head to clear it and flexing her aching fist. Red filled one eye with a split across her face opening fresh, and she felt herself wobble, weak in the knees. The crowd on the dance floor stopped, uttering a collective gasp.

“Commander!” She heard Kelly cry out.

“I said, fuck  _ off _ !” Shepard screamed, leaping atop the krogan, who was still stumbling back. Clenching both fists together, she brought them both down onto his face twice, before he shoved her off. Hitting the floor on her back, she looked up to see him bearing down. Rolling out of the way and lashing out at the last moment sent the krogan to the floor. Staggering up to her feet and lifting her fists, she screamed at his lumpen shape, eyes wild with rage,

“Get up!  _ Get up _ !”

She was hit from behind once. Twice on the turnaround, and again for a third time. The impacts were so quick that Shepard didn’t even feel them, registering instead how the room was spinning crazily, going sideways. Shouting blended together into one awful roaring noise, and her vision became a bleary mess. She heard herself coughing, but could do nothing as it all faded into blackness.

* * *

_ Oh my god, I’m gonna throw up. _

Sitting bolt upright, Shepard leaned over, shaking and heaving. The gurney was cold to her clammy skin and the lights so bright her vision appeared double. Covering her eyes with both hands she swung her feet onto the floor.

“Commander, you’re concussed, stop.” Soft, familiar hands gripped her forearms.

“Who? Kelly, Kelly, no, no, where’s Kelly?”

“I’m right here, Commander,” came her tearful voice, from somewhere off to the side. Shepard’s shoulders relaxed and she dropped her hands from her face, her eyes squeezed shut against the light.

“Bucket,” she groaned. Something made of metal was thrust into her hands and Shepard retched, her stomach empty. One of those comforting hands rubbed between her shoulder blades.

“Easy, easy does it… ”

“Chakwas,” Shepard mumbled. “Doctor Chakwas.” Peering through her fingers, she could see Kelly sitting on a chair across the room, still in her red dress with mascara running down her cheeks.

“Yes. You’ll still be like this for another few minutes, I expect, Commander. Please stay still. I’m not sure how, but your head is even thicker than that krogan’s.”

“ _ Where is he _ ,” Shepard growled, the force of her own voice making her throbbing head worse.

“In custody,” explained the doctor, “which is where you’d be, if not for the audio records.”

“Oh, man, I want  _ off _ _ this planet _ ,” she groaned, placing her hands to her eyes again with another wave of nausea rolling over her. She thought she heard the doctor’s voiceless chuckle. “I mean it,” she mumbled.

“Oh, Commander, I’m so sorry,” Kelly cried. “I just wanted you to have a nice time after everything that’s happened… Commander, I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to, but I had to read your email about-”

“ _ Yeoman _ , as  _ much _ as I appreciate your candour and sincerity, in the circumstances, I should like to give the Commander some quiet right now and for you to go and get yourself cleaned up. This instant, if you please,” said Chakwas, sharply.

“Yes, doctor,” she said, admonished, giving a small tug at her torn dress as she stood up.

Lying back down on the gurney, Shepard sighed with relief at the lights dimming, and a few moments passed in relative silence as Chakwas sat at her desk, writing on a pad.

“When the swelling subsides, you’ll need to come over here to knit together that cut across your face. It’s sutured together at the moment, but the skin is very thin across parts of it, and will come undone.”

“Mhmm,” Shepard replied.

“What in all the heavens happened out there, Commander?”

“Some guy wanted to buy her, and I said no,” she explained, sucking a breath in through her teeth as she touched her own cheek. “Though, in retrospect, maybe I should’ve asked his price.”

“Commander, far be it from me to tell you what to do, but I would advise you not to say things you might regret,” she said, still scribbling in a notepad.

“I’m joking, Doctor.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” the doctor replied, pausing before she asked, “I try not to overstep when I speak candidly, however… why didn’t you let security handle it?”

Shepard looked across the room at her, her hands folded in her lap.

“Wasn’t any time.”

“You were unarmed,” The doctor said, the worry evident in her eyes.

“I was… angry,” Shepard admitted, looking back up towards the ceiling. “Just… angry,” she repeated, her voice breaking. Chakwas sat in silence, and Shepard didn’t need to look over to know that she was listening. “I got an email. From Kaidan,” Shepard said, voice quivering. Hearing this, she closed her eyes in an effort to still herself, adding, “I told you, once, how important he…  _ is _ , to me.”

“You did,” Chakwas replied, gently. “And, he once told me the same, himself. How is he?”

“I’m not exactly sure how he is,” answered Shepard. She heard the doctor shifting in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. “He wasn’t very… specific, in his letter. I don’t understand why he sent me anything at all, when  _ that  _ was all he had to say. What a weak apology.”

“Why do you feel his apology was weak?”

“Just saying  _ ‘I’m sorry for what I said _ ,’ doesn’t cut it with me… given what we had. I expected something less wishy-washy than what landed in my inbox.”

After a long pause during which Chakwas was tapping her pen against her notebook, she said,

“To play the devil’s advocate for a moment, that letter can’t have been easy for Kaidan to write. Is there anything he could have said that you would have felt was satisfactory?”

Shepard held her throbbing head, rubbing at her temples and peering up at the ceiling through half-lidded eyes.

“There’s a few things. But he always leaves himself a way out of everything by being vague. That’s what he’s done here.”

“That’s possible,” conceded the doctor, clicking her tongue. “Although, perhaps, it was he who was leaving  _ you _ a way out?”

Shepard was silent for a moment, closing her eyes again as she spoke,

“It’s still hard for me to understand it’s been two years for everybody else. Me? I woke up the next morning. Life went on without me for two years. I  _ understand  _ that, but I don’t  _ feel  _ it.”

“Indeed. Your experience is quite unique, in that respect,” said Chakwas.

“It sure didn’t come with a manual,” she responded, dryly. “It’s unreasonable of me to expect him to act the way he did two years ago. In fact…” she said, trailing off as she called to mind the memory of the kisses she had shared with Joker, “I’m not sure that I still  _ want  _ him to. Maybe that’s part of why I’m so angry. He was always so simple to deal with and to understand. Now he isn’t.”

“I understand, Commander,” replied Chakwas, looking down towards her lap. “Feelings and relationships change.”

“Not always for the better, either,” Shepard replied through a deep sigh. “Doctor, thanks for listening to me like this. It feels nice to have a sounding board, and honestly not much feels nice right now,” she added, wincing. “When did you say this was supposed to start kicking in?”

“Several minutes ago, I imagine, otherwise I should think it would have been very difficult to talk. As for listening to you… what are friends for? As well you know, part of the listening process is responding. If you would like, I have a suggestion for you?”

“Of course.”

“Because of the nature of this mission we’re on, you may wish to prioritise finding the time to give this issue the attention that it deserves. I don’t wish to sound unduly bleak, but I’m not sure how appropriate it is to count on too many tomorrows, with all that entails.”

“I think you might be right… Maybe living in the moment is all any one of us can do,” Shepard responded, swallowing hard before adding, “or should do?”

“I’m sure you know what you mean by that better than I,” said Chakwas, standing up to touch the display on a machine with tens of tiny mechanical arms, each tipped with what looked like a pen. “Come, let’s fix that cut.”

* * *

  
  


Shepard’s teeth ached as she bit down on the spare clip hard enough to feel like it might crack. Casting a look over her shoulder to where she knew Garrus lay in wait, she snapped back her weapon’s release and reloaded. Hidden behind masses of piping and spare wires, Shepard peered through a gap to scan the way ahead.

“These guys aren’t going to leave us alone. I need you to draw their fire for a minute while I reposition. There’s a power console over there - I’m going for it!” She launched into a mad dash for the terminal, focusing only on its bright blue glow. Bullets bit into the grating beneath her feet. From behind the meagre cover offered by a stack of crates, she heard Garrus’ shot ring out, followed by a crash. Peeking around, Shepard saw a geth falling forward, its legs buckling, head blown apart. The remains of its single camera eye skittered past, emitting sparks that died quickly in the near vacuum. She took a deep breath, bringing up her Omnitool to trigger a wave of energy that rippled through her armour’s shields. The alteration bent light around her, rendering her all but invisible to the geth stalking on the catwalk above. She wasted no time and turned to the computer, tapping out strings of commands on the keyboard. A section of the engine roared to life.

Breaking into a run, she threw herself towards the next terminal. Power-intensive as it was, the cloak could only hold for so long - she had just seconds left. Her footsteps were soundless even as she ran full pelt towards the second computer. Upon reaching it, she grabbed the bulky console to stop her breakneck run.  _ Looks like Garrus has been doing his job, _ she thought, chancing a look over her shoulder to see the hallway clear. 

A shuddering beneath her feet signalling success, Shepard grinned to herself.

“Just gotta get this thing turned, now,” she said, looking about for the navigational array. A ramp to her right caught her attention.  _ I bet it’ll be behind there. _

She headed up, ignoring muffled sounds of gunfire and instead rounding the corner. True to her suspicion, a terminal jutted out of the back of the engine column, sitting just out of the geth’s line of sight. When she reached it, she flicked through its glowing orange panels, remembering Joker’s advice.  _ Okay… He said I should find thruster controls in this menu here… Third down, second across…  _ After plugging in some values, relief washed over her as the display cleared to show the aft thrusters as they fired in bursts. Its new course would take it nowhere near the colony of Fargone.  _ That’s my boy, _ she thought with pride, nodding to herself.  _ He knows everything about stuff like this. _

“Alright, course correction completed,” she said, pushing away from the console. “But the ship’s still dropping like a stone. Time to get off this can. Let’s go!”

“Right, Shepard!” Grunt roared over the con.  _ I really need to remind him that he can just talk, he doesn’t need to yell for us to hear him. _ Running down the ramp, she saw as Grunt charged into a geth. It didn’t stand a chance against his rocky shoulders; its metal carapace crumpling like paper under the blow.  _ Where  _ _ do  _ _ they keep coming from? _

A volley of bullets spattered her shielding and with a flash, it shattered around her. As she turned, a round bit into her leg and she doubled over, crying out in agony. She looked down only to realise in horror that the bullet had shredded its way deep into her calf. Shepard hit the floor. Another impact. Loud hissing filled her ears, blocking out all other sounds. 

“No, it’s happening  _ again _ !” Her scream rent its way from her throat; a waste of precious air. Blood pounding in her ears, she heaved the rest of it from her lungs just as she’d been trained. She tried hauling herself toward the shuttle, chest burning with the effort of trying to suck in the nothing all around. Her world was pain, spasms wracking her body as she tried in vain to fill her lungs. Silence replaced the last wisps rushing out of her helmet. Dots were already creeping in at the edges of her vision and her limbs were useless, flopping weights. Something moved, but whether it was her body or the entire structure around her, Shepard couldn’t tell.

There was a rasping, choking noise.  _ Where is that coming from? _ It came again, louder, more regular and as she opened her eyes, she saw Garrus bending over her, the familiar walls of the shuttle behind him. Her helmet was off, replaced by a breather mask he was pressing to her face. As if set afire, every nerve in her body blazed with pain. Garrus’ mandibles twitched, his eyes wide and pupils contracted into pinpoints as he rasped and clicked something Shepard’s translator failed to take in. Darkness consumed her.

* * *

  
  
  


_ As the quiet prised into her mind like cold, unloving fingers, she felt her skin stretch too tight over her frame. _ _ I’m going to die! _ _ She panicked, grabbing at her throat, grabbing at the air tube, kicking into the void, convulsing as her ribs strained against the vacuum. Catching glimpses of the broken ship as she tumbled end over end, the words came to mind again. Softer this time, like a thought wrapped in velvet.  _ _ I’m… dying. _ _ A strange and curious fog of calm descended upon her, eating away all her fear. _

_ Everything was so beautiful. A fragment of the Normandy, of what had been her life, bounced off her hand as it streaked down towards Alchera’s gleaming surface. Her eyes turned from it towards the two halves of the Normandy, from which lights were sailing off into the distance.  _ _ Escape pods? How can I see all this? Know all this? They always said there was no time to think. To feel…  _ _ Shepard turned her head to look. The sun was setting the horizon alight, spreading its gold and red fires across thousands upon thousands of miles of violets and azure blues. As her sight grew dim, and as she spiralled away into that deep blue far below, she closed her eyes. With the last of her living will, Shepard brought to mind images of the faces of the people she loved. Her final conscious thought was of her tongue. Burning, boiling…  _

The sharp, antiseptic smell of the Medbay filling her lungs brought her back into the world of the living with a deep gasp. Its white walls, so different to the endless black outside, were for once, a welcome sight. Someone nearby was speaking, although she couldn’t make out the words. Her whole body felt tender, her eyes warm when she blinked and she lifted her heavy head to look down towards her leg.  _ Something’s not right, _ she thought, squinting at it.

“Doctor?” She asked, her voice hoarse.

“... will be fine. Fractures, yes… nearly in half… I think she’s coming round now.”

“Doctor?” Shepard repeated, lifting herself up on her elbows, wincing.

“Commander, good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

“Well… I’m back. In Medbay,” she croaked. “Again.”

Chakwas smiled. “Indeed. I rather think you are spending too much time here as of late, Commander.”

“I was shot,” mumbled Shepard, staring down at her leg. Trying to move it sent pain ripping up her whole right side. She saw the cast just below the knee, and froze.

“The regeneration will take some weeks, but you  _ will  _ walk again,” said Chakwas, as if reading her mind.

“ _ Weeks _ ? I don’t have weeks,” she replied, her expression darkening.

“You’ll have to find them from somewhere, I’m afraid. You’re growing new sections of both your tibia and fibula, in addition to most of the muscle in your lower leg.” Chakwas explained, looking down at the cast. “Most of the swelling has gone down, but overall you’ll be exceptionally sore for the next few days. It’s incredibly fortunate that Garrus and Grunt got you to the shuttle as quickly as they did. You owe them your life, Commander.”

“I do,” she concurred.

“Soft tissue regrowth will happen relatively quickly, but you will need a support cage to help you move about during this process,” Chakwas continued, “you’ll be on medication for the itching as well.”

“Itching?”

“As the nerves regrow, there will be intense itching. Fortunately, there is medication for that.” Chakwas reached for a bottle of pills, placing them on the table next to the gurney.

Shepard nodded, reaching for a glass of water. “Garrus and Grunt?”

“Both fine.”

Shepard took a sip, looking into the bottom of the glass. A memory surfaced from years before; waking up in Medbay after touching the beacon on Eden Prime. Kaidan had been there, by her side. With wistful fondness, she recalled his bashful smile and the gentle, earnest way he comported himself in that moment.

“You’re  _ lucky _ , Shepard. If this had been even just a few years ago, you’d have lost your leg below the knee,” said Dr Chakwas, her words nudging Shepard back into the present.

“How long was I out for?” She asked.

“Twenty-two hours. I had some patching up to do,” she said. “Jeff’s quite concerned about you, it would seem,” Chakwas continued speaking over her shoulder as she fetched something from her desk. “He sends for updates more often than Ms Lawson.”

“Well,” said Shepard as she sat up, “I’ll be sure to go and tell him I’m alright.”

“Not so fast. You’ll be remaining here for a few days before I can fit the brace.”

“But -”

“No,” The doctor’s tone was firm as she explained, “I need time to make sure you’re starting to heal properly and there are no complications. I’ve a lot of work to do on that leg yet if you hope to use it again. I know you want to leave, but this is one instance where  _ my  _ authority supersedes your own.”

Shepard replaced her leg on the gurney and lowered herself back down, sighing, “alright, Doctor. I can’t argue with that. But, I want my team to come in and see me. Give me reports.”

“We’ll see,” she replied. “I’m certain you’ll be provided with all the necessary information.”

“Also… have Kelly feed my fish?”


	8. Absolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are many different kinds of rock. Slate, granite... igneous... Uh... Classic, Heavy, Soft...  
> And, Jack has some growing to do, but, we all knew that.

_ “Got my head in a haze _

_ Feel like a cat in a cage _

_ I’ve been crying for days and I’m falling apart _

_ Digging a hole in my heart” _

_ Big Sugar, Diggin’ a Hole _

Through one eye, Shepard watched Chakwas as the doctor worked across the room. With unspent energy bouncing around her body as she lay on the bed, she sighed in frustration. Picking up a datapad for the umpteenth time, she scrolled through it in a vain effort to find distraction.  _ The extranet is boring today, _ she thought to herself.  _ More headlines, more lies. _ A horrendous tickling itch crept up her thigh, making her leg spasm. Shepard frowned, her fingers reaching the top of the cast long before getting close to the itch. She wanted to shove her fingers down the lip of it to harass the screaming prickliness, but had to settle for scratching all around the top.

“The pills, Commander. To your left,” came Chakwas’ quiet voice from across the room. She hadn’t even looked up. 

The pills were large. They caught in her throat, making her swallow hard and she shuddered.

“Doctor, please,” she said and wiped her mouth after downing some water. “I just want to go to my quarters,” she grumbled, staring at the gleaming, clean walls. “This gurney is horrible, I feel like a corpse waiting for an autopsy.”

“Of all the things you’ve been through, I should think being asked to lie down where I can keep watch wouldn’t be quite so difficult,” Chakwas replied, the smile evident in her voice. “You do need to stay here.”

“I’ll be careful. I’ll  _ hop _ , if I have to,” Shepard pleaded, aware of her indignity on display. “I’ll use a crutch or something. I  _ need  _ to get out of here.”

Chakwas swiveled in her chair to give Shepard a stern look and said, “It’s been  _ two days, _ Commander.”

“Sometimes I’m almost glad I didn’t have a mother growing up, if this is any indication.” Shepard’s sour look was directed at the wall. Regretting the remark as soon as it left her, she placed her hands down by her sides. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s clear to me that your mother did very well by you during the short time she had with you. Although, in the end, she did not have the time required to teach you patience.”

“Too old to learn now,” she said with a somewhat sheepish smile.

“Mmm,” murmured the doctor. “Perhaps given the circumstances your particular inability to sit still serves us all in some ways,” she looked off to the side, as though she was thinking about something. “I do have a pair tucked away,” she added. “A little low tech to be sure, but until I can fit that brace, it’ll do.” Chakwas got up and walked to a tall cabinet on the wall from which she pulled out a set of crutches. She adjusted them a good several times before passing one over. A sticker wrapped around the metal of one strut bore the phrase, ‘ _ Dangerzone _ !’ in a bright script font next to an ancient Terran fighter jet. Shepard smiled. 

“These must be Joker’s,” she said. She spotted another and turned it over. ‘ _ She Was a Hero,’  _ it read, the letters printed overtop an artist’s rendition of her old helmet. It was faded and a little worn around the edges.

“They are his, yes. I’m pleased to say he hasn’t needed them since the last of the treatments, but I’ve kept them, just in case,” said Chakwas, watching as Shepard tucked them under each arm. Her leg throbbed with every movement, but she gritted her teeth; it was tolerable enough.

“Thank you,” she said as she hobbled toward the door, careful to keep her leg well off the ground.

“I’ll have your pills brought up to you. Remember to  _ take them, _ please.  _ No _ detours,” she said and folded her hands on the desk.

“I confess,” said Shepard with a guilty sigh, “I also wanted to go up to the helm. It’s related to the discussion we had the last time I was here.”

“ _ One _ detour,” the doctor replied, touching her hand to her forehead. “ _ Brief _ . You need to keep your leg up. I’ll come up in some hours for your next pain relief and to check for clotting.”

“Don’t worry. The way this thing hurts I don’t want to stay upright too long anyway,” said Shepard as she took her first step outside Medbay, swinging forward on the crutches.

The Mess seemed to stretch out in front of her, full of obstacles and with every step, her leg complained even as she kept it suspended in the air.  _ The doctor is right, _ she thought as she hit the elevator’s call button.  _ I shouldn’t be up. But I can do this. It won’t take long. _ With a hiss, the elevator doors opened and Garrus stepped out. Upon seeing her, his mandibles flared wide in surprise.

“Shepard, I was just coming up to see you. It’s good to see you up and about even if you have to move around like an elcor,” he said, his flanged voice holding a note of concern. “You took a nasty hit back there. I didn’t know we were in a competition for who can get the meanest scar.”

“Thanks again for saving my ass, Garrus.”

“Couldn’t let you lose a leg and end up looking worse than me.” He tilted his head in a somewhat birdlike fashion, looking down at the cast. “How is your leg? I’m amazed it’s still attached. That doctor really knows what she’s doing.” 

“‘It’s still attached' is probably the best way to describe it,” she replied. With a grim smile, she added, “should probably just give up and feed it to Urz.”

“You’ll be back popping holes in mercs before you know it,” he said, his mandibles drooping in sympathy. “I have an idea. A few of us are getting together for a round of poker later. You could just sit on a chair with your leg up. Are you in?”

“I’d like to be, but…”

“I’m not the best at human expressions, but you sure can rinse that Flight Lieutenant for all he’s worth. He has the worst poker face I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s cheating for you, yours barely moves,” she sniffed. “Who else is playing?”

“We decided Grunt wasn’t allowed to play since he dented the table last time, but it’s me, Tali, Yeoman Chambers, Taylor, Joker, and even Jack crawls out of the sewers or whatever to play. You’d make seven.”

“This is embarrassing, but I don’t know how to play poker,” she admitted.

“You’d be a natural. And if you’re not, well. I  _ just  _ about trust  _ you _ not to break the table in half,” he said, a few untranslatable clicks accompanying his words that she suspected was some form of laughter. He put his arm through the elevator’s doorway to keep them open.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” she said as she swung inside. “Alright, I’ll give it some thought for later. Thanks for coming up.”

“Mmhm, now it’s time for a hot plate of dextro-paste. My  _ favourite _ ,” he said as his mandibles parted to reveal his needle-like teeth in a sarcastic grin. “Do me a favour. Can the next headcase with a deathwish you bring onboard be dextro, too? Maybe if there’s three of us we’ll get some better food.”

She leaned against the wall and watched the blue floor numbers change. As the doors pulled back, the CIC spread out before her. She thought she could feel eyes on her as she made her way out and onto the deck. A curious heat prickled up at the back of her neck and she felt the tips of her ears grow warm.  _ Maybe this isn’t good for morale. Maybe I’m setting a bad example by coming out here like this. _ She hesitated.  _ No, it will be good for them to see that even though I’ve been rattled, I’m still in the fight. _ She continued on her way, nodding to Kelly, who looked at Shepard with a mixture of surprise and sympathy. She started towards her as if to help, but seemed to think better of it, putting her hands down behind her back.

“Hi, Commander.” Her smile wasn’t convincing. She was worried. “Can I get you anything? How’s the leg?”

“No, thank you. I’m only here for a moment.”

“Are you sure, Commander?” Kelly’s eyes were full of concern and Shepard felt her ears get a little warmer.  _ If I’d looked behind me back on the Broken Arrow I might not be making everyone so worried now. _

“Don’t  _ worry _ , I’ve  _ got it _ ,” she replied with a little more insistence. Kelly nodded and returned to her work as Shepard continued past, the crutches clicking on the floor.

_ Was the hallway here always this long? _ Shepard wondered, a little out of breath on the way up to the helm. She paused for a moment to catch her breath, making a point of pretending to study one of the displays. As she drew closer, she could see the familiar bill of Joker’s cap peek out from the chair. She came to a stop just behind the cockpit’s threshold and cleared her throat. “Sorry I’m late for my post-mission visit.”

“Commander, hey,” he answered, turning the chair to face her. She saw his eyes flick to the crutches, then the cast, then back up. “So, EDI and I were discussing the finer points of what makes a good movie,” he said. “See, I think budget and box office stuff is kinda irrelevant, but EDI insists it’s about metrics and correlation. Wanna weigh in? Throw your authority around and settle it.”

“Hmm,” she thought aloud. “I guess it depends on your definition of what a good film is. If you’re there for the art, then you’re right. How much money it made doesn’t matter. But if you’re judging how good they are as money-making ventures, then statistics  _ are  _ all that matters.”

“Trust you to be all  _ diplomatic  _ about it. Come on, pick a side! Where’s your  _ passion for the arts _ ?” He lifted his hands in feigned offense. She laughed. It felt good to talk about something that didn’t matter, for a change.

“Some of my favourites are box office bombs,” she said, and leaned heavily on one crutch, shifting how she was holding her injured leg.

“Yeah? You’ll have to tell me about them, sometime.”

“I would right now, but as it is, I just came up to say hello. It’s likely I’ll be resting up until right before we get to Tarith, and I wanted to see you first.” She watched him fidget with his cap, looking at a monitor off to his side.

“Yeah, Tarith. What a lovely little ball of rock that looks to be. Why aren’t any of these assignments ever on gorgeous sunny planets with white sand and beaches?” he lamented. “You know, somewhere you could land and go blow stuff up, and I could go drink something blue with a… space lemon in it, or something.”

“Some of them  _ are  _ on worlds like that. But you’d never set foot off this ship unless you were dragged off,” she said with a smirk and a sideways glance.

“Yeah, well, I could be convinced you know.” He shrugged.

“Tell you what, next time we’re orbiting some place with a decent surface temperature and an atmosphere  _ not  _ made up of methane, I’ll give us all a day’s shore leave and you can go live it up.”

“You, ah, you’re planning on going to the Citadel at some point to speak with Anderson again, aren’t you?” he asked, glancing off to his left. Shepard blinked with mild surprise.

“I’d put that on the back-burner some time ago,” she admitted, following his gaze out the window. “I do have some things to discuss with him, and I imagine the Council would love nothing more than to blow some hot air in my face about  _ something _ .”

“Yeah, their favourite thing seems to be wasting your time. Well, I was thinking. When you take care of your business there, you wanna go someplace?” he asked. Shepard turned away from the stars and focused on him, noticing his fingers drumming on the armrest. “You know, for dinner or something? Nothing fancy. In fact, the less fancy the better.”

“I’d really enjoy that,” she said, giving him a warm smile. “And who knows… Maybe the Council will have good news for me this time.”

“Wow, you said that whole thing with a straight face. Nice job,” he said, sharing a knowing look with her. “So… Serpent Nebula? Or am I staying on course?”

“I think it’s about time. Give this a chance to patch up. Serpent Nebula.”

“Aye  _ aye _ , Commander,” he replied as he turned to the navigational array, grinning.

The walk back to her quarters left her feeling breathless and as Shepard stepped inside, she realised why. Exhaling at last the breath she’d been holding against the pain, she breathed a further sigh of relief when she reached the bed. Only too eager to shrug off her jacket and clothes, Shepard placed the crutches at the foot of the bed. The crisp white covers were thick, and she rolled herself up in them, leaving her leg in the cast out. Drawing a datapad up close, she lay on her side and pawed through news articles. Soon, her eyelids were heavy and she shook herself awake.  _ I shouldn’t sleep. I actually want to learn poker. It’d make a nice change. _

_ ‘Sightings of First Human Spectre Continue,’  _ Shepard read. She knew better, but couldn’t resist. Poking the article brought up a ream of pictures that she looked at through one open eye.  _ That’s a merc. Not me. Still not me, though the likeness is a little surprising.  _ She squinted.  _ Oh come on. I think that’s a turian? _ The comments below the article were always good for a laugh and she passed through them.

_ ‘Some people just won’t let #SheWasAHero rest. Do you know how many people she killed? Probably more than the robot squid. Get over it already, #SheWasNot.’ _

_ ‘Were are the cthulhu cuttlefish shepherd’ _

_ ‘#SheWasHot’ _

She rolled her eyes and flicked the article away. Searching around, she could only find footnote articles about the missing human colonies. The occasional survivor’s story, pictures of the ghost towns left behind by the Collectors. She frowned, a dark mixture of rage and helplessness roiling in her gut. Turian, asari and salarian feeds were full of happy stories, hobby bulletins, advertisements for romantic comedies, the kinds of things a galaxy talks about when it feels safe. The mood on the extranet was one of hand-waving scepticism; why bother with the upstart humans and their conspiracy theories when the threat had been quelled? So completely, as well. Discoveries utilising Reaper technology was starting to filter out into the mainstream, although not under any such name. Every now and then, Shepard would come across a mysterious breakthrough in technological fields, suddenly having received a nonspecific windfall or vague inspiration.

Skimming by the month’s award-winning photos, her finger stopped in its tracks. 

_ A picture of Alchera’s horizon from orbit. _

_ Tink. _ A sharp, crystalline sound above the roar of the engine reached her ears and Shepard paused, lifting her head.  _ Tink, tink. _ She half rolled onto her back, looking up at the wide skylight. A rectangle of the void outside was punctuated by a thousand stars twinkling in the dark. A sinking feeling grew in the pit of her stomach. She swallowed.  _ Tink.  _ The window seemed to expand, filling her vision and she could feel a cold sweat prickling at her brow.  _ Tink. Crick. _ Like a spiderweb, a line of silver invaded the view of the expanse. It shot across it like a little lightning bolt, zig by zag, angle by angle. She was heaving for breath as she pulled herself upright and groped about for the crutches. She was still trying to pick up the second when the glass exploded outward in a shower of shards, launching her straight out along with them. Her body burned as she shot through the mass effect field and out into the nothing. For a few breaths the air was still dense enough to breathe and she screamed in terror. Tumbling end over end she saw with every revolution the Normandy’s wake, a wispy blue colour painted in a straight line against the stars. Her skin felt like it was stretching. Her tongue boiled and she couldn’t move as the cold set in, freezing her solid from the outside in.

She awoke, choking and in tears. Shepard gripped her own shoulders, willing herself to breathe. With each shuddering breath, she held herself tighter. Alchera’s horizon loomed inside her mind’s eye.

“No. There is air here. I am fine,” she said aloud, opening her eyes to stare out at the room and clear her vision. She let go of her shoulders and pulled the covers over her head like a thick hood, refusing to look up. “I can breathe. There is air.” Shepard looked about the room for something to focus on aside from the window above or to the side. Her eyes came to rest upon the Mako model, still sitting across the room on the table right where it had been left some days before, next to some empty wine glasses. Taking in a deep breath, she focused on its shape for a moment; took in its colour, its angle, committing its details to memory in an effort to reset her jangling nerves. She pulled the covers further over herself and poked at her forearm. The Omnitool’s glow filled the blanket tent she had created for herself.

_ From: Vakarian, G _

_ Subj: Cards _

_ Body: Just to remind you. We’re all in the cargo bay and we start in 20. There are enough troops here to hold the line without you if you have other things to handle. _

_ Mmm, a little over twenty minutes ago, _ she thought, and frowned to herself.

_ To: Vakarian, G _

_ Subj: RE: Cards _

_ Body: On my way. Don’t lose your shirt without me there, because I want to make fun of you for it. _

Shepard pulled on her clothes with all of the enthusiasm she could muster, which wasn’t very much. It was a fight to get her cast through slacks and it felt more comfortable to roll the fabric up, bunching at the knee on one side.  _ Not exactly regulation, but sue me, I guess. _

  
  


* * *

  
  


Joker drummed his fingers on the table, watching as the turian tapped out a message on his Omnitool.

“Shepard says she’s coming,” he said, turning his long head to look at Jack as she shuffled cards. “Let’s just wait a minute more for the next round.”

Jack glanced up from the shuffling, folding her arms as she leaned back in her seat. Joker found it difficult not to look overlong at the tattoos that adorned her body instead of clothing; the only articles on her top half being a curious little arrangement of belts, just barely covering her breasts. Long rows of inked black vertebrae trailed down her arms, and as he looked back up towards her face he couldn’t help but notice the similarities in appearance between Jack and Shepard. Both women kept their hair shorn, and both had large, expressive eyes set in faces with full lips and sharp jawlines. The difference was that Shepard exuded a kind of refined strength he didn’t have the words for, and Jack was wiry, calculating and sour. Even now her lip was twisted into a sneer as she watched the elevator doors like a hawk.  _ I wonder if Shepard has any tattoos? _ His thoughts floated back as they often did to the kisses he’d shared with her. He imagined what, if anything, she might have on her skin. He’d felt up her sides, sure, but hadn’t  _ seen _ much of anything - a fact he dwelled on as he rapped the table in a complicated rhythm.

“Hey flyboy,” said Jack, narrowing her eyes in his direction, “I’m feeling downright fucking  _ magnanimous  _ today, so I’ll warn you first. Knock  _ that  _ shit off.”

“Alright,” he said, and ceased.  _ Magnanimous, huh? That your word of the day? I wish I wasn’t sat next to her. But, I guess it was Tali’s turn last time. _

Tali’s gaze was hard to place being that her eyes looked solid white behind her helmet’s visor, but he often thought they travelled in Garrus’ direction. She sat touching her two fingertips on each hand together, twiddling her thumbs.

“You were there when Shepard was injured, weren’t you?” She asked Garrus. “Is it bad?”

“It didn’t look too good when I saw it, but she's only got a basic cast on it now, and that’s working well. I saw her this afternoon and she was moving around fine,” he replied.

“Yeah,” said Chambers, looking glum as she spoke. “The Commander’s been through a lot lately. I wonder if there’s anything we can do?”

“You can let  _ her _ handle it, for one,” Joker said with a firm tone, “she’ll tell you all what she needs from you.”

“Ooh, bark,  _ bark _ ,” Jack interjected. “Careful Chambers, don’t get Shepard’s little lapdog riled up, he might break something snapping at your heels and then we’ll have to fucking talk about  _ that _ for another half hour.”

“Keep pressing buttons, Jack,” he said. “Maybe one of these days it’ll be the airlock release.” 

Jack looked up at him with what he swore was the ghost of a smile, although her eyes radiated intensity and his gut warned him not to blink first. He was relieved when her dark look shot off towards the elevator. It opened to reveal Shepard leaning on his old crutches.  _ Saved by the babe. _

“Hey, Commander,” Taylor called over to her as the others nodded or waved. “Good to see you upright. We’re just about to start, I’ll grab a box so you can put your leg up.”

“Thank you,” she replied, the crutches clicking on the metal floor as she approached.  _ I do  _ _ not _ _ miss that sound, _ thought Joker.

“Well, well, the Queen of the Girl Scouts herself pulls in last place in the three-legged race. Aren’t you setting a bad example for your troop by being late?” Jack said through her trademark scowl. Shepard disregarded the remark. She looked a little pale, which exaggerated the darkness under her eyes. Taylor dragged a chair and a crate of piping up to the table and with some effort, Shepard let herself down.

“Okay,” she said. “I have almost no idea what I’m doing, so someone’s going to have to teach me.”

“You don’t know how to play, Commander?” asked Chambers, her cheerful tone making Jack roll her eyes.

“First things first. Credit chit on the table,” said Jack. “We don’t have chips here so it’s all done with those. I’m the dealer, so I do it, and before you get pissy about it, I haven’t fucked any of  _ them _ around and I’m not about to start.”

Shepard fished around in her pocket for the three-inch long chit, a backup independent of an Omnitool. She tapped in her access code and handed it to Garrus, who handed it to Jack. “It’s alright, Jack, I trust you,” said Shepard. 

“Like hell you do,” she replied, looking at the chits laid out. “Anyway. Post for a thousand or sit?”

“Whatever makes you happy,” she said over a yawn.

“Did you fuck up your  _ brain  _ as well as your leg?” Snorted Jack, shuffling the cards. “Post?”

“You want to post if you want in, Shepard,” said Garrus. She nodded, and Jack tapped something on the chits.

“Deal ‘em, girl,” said Taylor, giving Jack a look that Joker found hard to place. Whatever it was, it worked, as she started flicking two cards to each person. He had to admit, she had some real flair where it came to that; her showy shuffling was second only to the way she could send a card to exactly the same place every time for every player.

“That’s neat, where’d you learn that?” Asked Shepard, tilting her head in mild amusement. 

“Fucking prison, where else?”

“Hm. I guess you had a more productive time than I did when I was in juvy,” she said as she picked up her cards.

“Was that when dinosaurs roamed the earth? Don’t try to relate to me.” 

“You’re  _ seven years _ younger than me,” answered Shepard, raising her eyebrow. “If I'm a dinosaur, you’re a shrew.”

Taylor considered his hand for all of a second before slapping the cards on the table and sliding them towards Jack. “Fold.” Tali followed suit, waving her hand in a shooing motion at the cards as she sent them on their way. Chambers paused, staring into the cards as if they were mirrors.

“Um, fold,” she said.

Shepard furrowed her brow, as if also trying to find something in the cards’ images. “I’ll… check is it…? To pass to the next player? Yes, check.”

“Yeah, I don’t buy that for one second, Girl Scout. I’m calling,” said Jack.

Garrus looked from Jack to Shepard a moment. “Fold,” he said, and let his cards drop.

With the turn in his hands, Joker looked at his cards.  _ Two of Clubs, Seven of Diamonds. Fuckin’ hell. Trust me to get dealt the worst hand in the game. _ He heard Garrus’ soft, flanged chuckle and looked up from his cards to see the turian shaking his head.

“If it’s that bad, Joker, just fold.”

“What?  _ Check _ ,” he replied, just to make Garrus blink in surprise. “See, you don’t know anything.”

Shepard met Joker’s eyes over the tops of her cards. He caught a glimpse of her soft, yet sly smile before she wiped her expression flat and looked down at the table. The secrecy of the look gave him a pleasant thrill and he couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on her a little.

Jack reached out and spread an Ace of Clubs, King of Diamonds, and Five of Spades on the table. Leaning back in his seat, Garrus turned his piercing blue eyes on Joker again. “Oh, don’t I?” he asked, flaring his mandibles. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m gonna bet  _ four thousand _ is what I’m gonna do,” he said as he stared back. Garrus loomed, cutting an impressive silhouette in the harsh light of the cargo bay, but Joker pointedly looked away. “And stop trying to put the heat on me, you’re not even  _ in  _ anymore.”

“Uh-huh,” Shepard said. “So, I know I’m not supposed to let people know what I have, but I’m not sure what to do.”

“You can tell me,” Joker said, mustering what he was sure would read as a sincere and helpful expression. “I mean, you don’t know how to play, so it’s only fair you have some guidance, right?”

“Fuck off, flyboy you can’t help. You’re still in the round,” snapped Jack.

“Yes. Don’t listen to him, he’s trying to eat you for dinner,” Garrus cut in. “Or is it breakfast?”

“That depends on what you’re trying to imply,” laughed Chambers.

“Eh, guilty as charged,” he mumbled. “Was worth a shot,” he said, and shrugged.

“Oh, hurry it  _ up _ ,” growled Jack as she fussed with the discarded cards, idly shuffling them.

“I’m going to call that bet.” Shepard said, and held her cards against her chest. Jack looked at her from across the table, a dangerous glint in her eyes. 

“Is that so? Well, I raise, to twenty thousand.”

“ _ Twenty thou _ \- Uh, yeah, they only pay me the medium bucks, I fold,” said Joker, shaking his head. He watched as Shepard made a little show of looking at her cards again.

“Mmm, all in,” she said at last. All heads turned to Jack.

“Call. Let’s see this turn and river.”Jack picked up two cards from the deck and placed both face up on the table. “Let’s get this over with.”

The Nine and Jack of Spades lay on display.

“Two Pair, Aces and Kings,” said Jack as she deposited the Ace of Diamonds and King of Hearts. “Pay up, princess.”

“Same suit is good, right?” Shepard asked. Without breaking eye contact, she dropped one card - King of Spades _. _ And then, the second, Queen of Spades _.  _

“A King High Flush,” Garrus said, his mandibles fluttering with surprise as he peered at the cards. Jack’s eyes widened, then narrowed into slits.

“What the  _ fuck  _ is this bullshit?” she snapped as she stood up, slamming her palms on the table. “You waltz in here not knowing fuck all about this game and then you just whip out a King High Flush without even knowing what you’re doing?”

“Jack,” Tali said as she lifted her hands in a peaceable gesture. “Even with good hands, we all lose sometimes, luck is part of -”

“I don’t have any beef with you,” Jack interrupted, focusing on her with laser-like intensity. “Don’t make me change that.” An arc of biotic energy crackled from her jaw to her shoulder. Without a word, Garrus pushed up from the table as well, casting a long shadow over Jack, who stared up at him. “Relax, asshole,” she snarled. A dark tension filled the air along with a sharp metallic tang, and Joker tried not to draw attention to the fact he was edging his chair back. He saw Shepard’s eyes flick towards himself and then back towards Jack. Shepard cleared her throat and got to her feet, steadying herself with one crutch.

“It’s beginner’s luck, I’m sure,” she said with a smooth, conciliatory tone. “I’m happy for you to keep the money. I’m just here to play a game with friends.”

“What? I don’t need your fucking pity!”

“Jack…” Taylor tried to get her attention, but she ignored him.

“No, fuck you, I’m out. I can go play on the extranet,” she snarled, stomping around the side of the table to get in Shepard’s face. Garrus started to take a step, but Shepard stretched out her hand, a clear signal for him to stop. “At least on  _ there _ , I won’t have to do this banker bullshit, and I won’t have to deal with  _ you _ ,” Jack continued. She stepped closer. The two women stood almost nose to nose, but Shepard didn’t move a muscle. She opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by Garrus.

“Step back.” His voice was ice as he continued to advance despite Shepard’s hand sign. 

“Ugh, you or your fucking  _ stooges _ ,” Jack spat, shoving Shepard’s shoulders. Unable to catch herself with her right leg, she went over backwards. The cargo bay erupted with motion. Garrus tried to catch her but was several strides away. Jack stormed off, slammed the elevator button and ignored the outcry. Tali swore at her in a mixture of Khelish and English.

“Hey!” Garrus called after Jack, but she was already behind the doors, flipping him off as they closed. Others went to try and help Shepard up off the floor.

“Stop,” Shepard said among the hubbub. He couldn’t see exactly what was happening with so many people in the way, but it looked like Garrus bent down to pick her up. “ _ Stop _ !” She cried, with more force this time. “Get  _ off  _ me! I  _ don’t  _ need your help!”

Joker sighed as he stood and limped up to where she had been sitting. The other crutch was leaning against the table. He took it in hand.  _ Yep… I know that feeling.  _ Tali, Chambers and Taylor were all hesitant to part and step back, but they did. Joker sat on the chair she’d been using, and waited in silence. Through gaps between them he saw Shepard pulling her left leg up underneath herself, stabbing the one crutch to the ground. Her face was flushed, the tips of her ears bright red as she shot daggers at Garrus.

“I am  _ injured _ . I am  _ not  _ incapable,” she said as she hauled herself up. Though she kept her tone even, Joker could tell she was white-hot angry. “When I signal for you to stop, or I tell you that I have a situation under control, I expect you to listen.”

“We’re your friends, Shepard,” said Tali, wringing her hands as she looked down at the floor. “We want to help.”

Shepard nodded and her hard look softened as she looked toward Tali. “I know you are, but I have to make myself clear. I am in command.”

Taylor held his hands up. “I hear you. I’ve been talking to Jack lately. If you’re alright here, I’ll go and have a talk with her.”

“Oh?” asked Shepard with a trace of irritation.

“ _ Not _ to go and handle it for you,” he hastened to add. This remark of Taylor’s seemed to satisfy her as her shoulders slackened a little. “Just to kind of prime her to listen later. She’s not used to honest people, Shepard. I think it’ll help.”

“That’s a good idea. Go on ahead,” she replied. Taylor nodded and went to the elevator.

“Not used to honest people… she makes me look like the sun shines out my ass,” Joker said. “I’m gonna hazard a guess here and say she’s stuck playing Go Fish with Grunt from now on?”

“Probably,” sighed Chambers. She looked uncertain, like she wanted to say something, but none more so than Garrus. Stood next to him, Tali hesitated before she placed her hand on his arm.

“Shepard, I’m -” Garrus began, but at the sound of his voice, Shepard wheeled on him.

“I appreciate what you tried to do for me by inviting me to this. I also appreciate that just now, you were trying to protect me,” she said, and as she spoke some of that redness returned to her ears. “But, I have a bum leg, Garrus. I don’t  _ need  _ protection.”

Joker noticed how Tali’s fingers tightened around Garrus’ arm. How that grip turned into a soft shake when he opened his weird mouth plates in reply.

“... Sometimes, you do.”

“ _ Yes _ ,” she said hotly, her eyes flashing. “Yes, you’re right. Sometimes, I do. When you pick off some asshole I can’t see before he gets me in the back. Or when you drag me back to the shuttle when my suit is decompressing. But  _ never  _ by second-guessing me after I give you  _ what you should know by now _ is an order.” It was bizarre to see the tall turian looking as though he wanted the deck to just open up and swallow him whole. Joker felt a twinge of sympathy.  _ I get it, man. But she had it under control. _

For a moment, he tuned out of the conversation, his mind’s eye visualising what he would have done had he not been afraid of Jack snapping him in half. Maybe if _he’d_ had crazy biotic powers, they could have gotten into a fight, repelling off walls and throwing steel bars at each other. _That’s stupid,_ he thought, but it amused him all the same. He looked again at Garrus' form, still imposing even as he was walking away. _I think_ _what I want is to just put myself in the way, like they can. Take some of that, sometimes._ He remembered the way Grunt planted himself in front of Shepard when she was vulnerable, bullets flattening themselves on his armour and grazing his rocky hide. He became a living mountain for her when she needed one.

“You’re still here?” Shepard’s voice caught his attention, from a little ways off to the side. He blinked, taken out of his thoughts and looked around. The others were gone. Several chairs away, she sat with her back to him.

“Yeah, I’m still here. Should I not be?”

“I’d say it’s a free country, but it’s not a country, and it isn’t free, either.”

“Well,” he said and stood up, limping as he carried the crutch over to her, “you don’t wanna forget your danger zone.”

“My what?” she asked, looking up at him with the corner of her mouth pulled into a confused smile. He pointed to the sticker wrapping around its strut.

“I can’t believe for even one second that you set foot in Alliance ground school and don’t know what that’s from.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, of course. Gonna take me right into the danger zone, huh?” she said with a distant smile, and let her elbows hang off the backrest of the chair to balance herself as she stretched her leg out.

“In this case it’s more that I’m  _ taking it to you _ , but sure.” He sat down and tipped the crutch towards her.

She took it and said “I like the sticker on the other one, too. Very flattering.”

“Yeah… they were a bit of a thing for a while on the Citadel. Figured I’d fly the flag, you know?”

“Been seeing it crop up sometimes in the news,” she explained. “Along with She Was Not, She Should Rot…” she trailed off and rolled her eyes, adding, “She Was Hot.”

“Heh, that one’s both true  _ and  _ insulting. Nice,” he replied, and smiled when she nudged his shoulder. “Hey, you know, you never actually told me you went to ground school,” he said, changing the subject. “I looked it up. That's how I knew you'd be able to tell the haptics were screwed up a while back.”

“Yeah, little baby me was originally going to do what you do, but worse.”

“Can’t deny that,” he said. “Eh, but you’d’ve been alright. Probably.”

“A ringing endorsement,” she said with a look so flat it made him laugh.

“Were you there long enough to get a callsign?”

“Hmm,” she said and looked away. “Maybe I’ll tell you one day," she said. "If you’re good.”

“Okay,” he shrugged one shoulder. “I guess I'll file that one away.” It was only when he felt her hand resting on his knee that he noticed how close they were to each other. She carried the faint scent of vanilla, something he took a moment to appreciate before he added, “alright, keep your secrets. See if I care,” and put his arm around her. Shepard put her head on his shoulder with such little pressure that it felt like she was barely there; some kind of warm ghost in the chair next to him.

“I’m not going to pretend like I suddenly know how it is for you,” she said at last. He looked down to see her, vexed as she said, “how do you deal with people underestimating you?”

“ _ That’s _ a kinda loaded question. Uh,” he replied, and paused to think. “I like to take a few pages from Jack’s book a lot of the time? But sometimes, it’s something more like this.” He reached up and pressed gently to the side of her head with his hand, encouraging her to let more of her weight down.

“… I see. I’m sorry,” she said, a hint of sheepishness in her tone.

“I get it’s hard for you because no one’s used to seeing you all laid up,” he said. “The assumptions and overriding is new to you. The big-ass  _ but _ here is that for  _ you _ it’s gonna get way easier. In a few weeks, this’ll be behind you and you can get back to being a badass. Curb stomp a few extra geth to make up for lost time, I guess.” The short fuzz on the side of her head felt pleasant under his fingertips, and he rested his cheek against her as the thought,  _ Okay, so maybe I can’t be a living mountain like Grunt. But if I try, maybe I can be some other kind of rock?  _

“I should apologise to Garrus.”

“No, you  _ shouldn’t _ . You told him to do something, he didn’t listen, and you got hurt because he thought  _ he _ had a better handle on it than  _ you _ . He  _ should _ feel like a jackass,” he said with some conviction.  _ Now where have I heard that before? _ … _ I know  _ _ all about that _ , he thought to himself, the words clouding the forefront of his mind along with images of the night Shepard died. 

The old instinct to retract back inside himself warred with the comfortable sensation of having her so close. The lightness he felt inside at her touch turned to lead, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away and he sat, paralysed. One of the Normandy’s many ribs groaned as the vessel reacted to outside forces; the peaceful song of a healthy ship in a sea of stars. He loved that sound, but Joker was too busy remembering its contrast with how the old ship screamed when she was rent apart to take it in, or to notice Shepard studying him, at first. She knew something was wrong, he could tell by the way she placed a kiss on his cheek. It felt good and sweet, and he  _ hated _ it. It was all he could do not to wriggle out from that gentle, loose embrace he wanted so much to just stay in. It was all he could do to fight against the guilt, the feeling her affection was some kind of mistake he didn’t deserve. The two years of grief, the Alliance stripping his life of flight - of meaning, after her  _ death _ , the moment he relived every time he slept. That  _ fucking _ ulnar plate scar on his arm. All the wasted hours of worthless therapy. All this want and need, devotion and desire he felt then and felt now. He swallowed, his mouth dry as paper.

“Shepard,” he said. He couldn’t look at her, instead taking his cap off and running his hand through his short hair. “I underestimated you, once too. I didn’t have an excuse. The night you, uh,” he paused, clearing his throat in the hopes it might reset the sound of his voice, keep it level. “The night you died. I was a jackass. It cost you a lot more than just falling over and… I’m sorry.”

She was silent for what felt like an age. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologise for anything as long as I’ve known you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, well,” he blurted, along with an uncomfortable laugh. “Don’t get used to it.” He felt himself cringing away from her.

“Listen,” she said. He knew that smooth, calming tone of hers and he didn’t want to be calmed. This was all too much. He tried in vain to think up an excuse to leave, but the way she took his hand in hers anchored him to the spot. “Listen to me,” she repeated. “That ship was my life, just as it was yours. I know why you tried. And believe me,” she continued, pulling him back to her. “I never regretted going back for you. I've never been angry. It doesn’t matter how many chances to do it over that I got… even knowing the price, for you I would make that same call, every time.”

He wanted to hold her so tight his frail bones would break, so he settled for the next best thing.

“Aw,  _ fuck _ ,” he swore.

“I know,” she said, soft and low. “You, too.”


	9. Privacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Joker asks himself some very important questions, some of which involve krogan cultural customs.  
> Jack enjoys some of her own brand of therapy.  
> Grunt would really just rather that mother stayed home, and Shepard feels like she kinda gets it a little bit.

The kiss was perfect. It was like the feeling he got when breaking free of clouds and soaring up into the open sky. It felt just like the part when the stars lay out before him and everything below fell away. He lived for those thrilling few seconds right ahead of the artificial gravity kicking in, when he felt one with the galaxy. As he lay back in his bunk, he replayed again and again the look in her eyes that made him feel like those seconds could sometimes be found with his feet still on the ground, unbelievable as it seemed. 

He spun his cap on his finger, thinking about how Shepard had looked so breathless, her cheeks so rosy when he pulled away that he didn’t have to guess at what she was thinking; surely it was the same thoughts making his own heart race. Of course, though, nothing was that simple. He grinned to himself, remembering Chakwas’ expression as she came off the elevator to chastise Shepard for not being in her quarters resting.  _ Little did she know,  _ he thought as he spun the cap around his fingertip faster,  _ she’d probably have been in her quarters just a minute later anyway.  _ He bit his lip to stifle a cheeky little laugh.  _ Maybe not resting, though. _

“Alright, what’s so funny?” Asked Kelly Chambers from across the aisle. The hat flew off his finger and knocked her datapad out of her hands. “Ah!” She exclaimed. 

“Whoops,” he said, still suppressing laughter. “Here, give it back,” he said and reached out.

“Don’t apologise or anything,” she said with a pout, and ignored his hand, inspecting the hat instead.

“If I’d brained you with my modelling knife I might, but it’s a  _ hat _ , give it back.”

She put it on backwards and stuck her tongue out at him, making a show of going back to her datapad. “Mine now. What were you giggling about, anyway? I don’t trust…  _ this _ ,” she said, drawing a circle in the air around his face.

“I’m not  _ giggling _ . What’s up with you?” He asked.

“You first.”

“No,  _ hat _ first. Then answers,” he said.

“Are these standard issue? Maybe you should request another one, because I’m keeping this.” Kelly looked at herself in the little mirror she kept on her bunkside wall. “Call it a Jerk Tax for flinging it around,” she said, winking at him.

He scowled. “Hope you like asari scale lice.” 

She ignored his outstretched hand again, hurling it at him so fast it was a blur. He grinned and put it on the little hook on the bedpost. “That’s what I thought. Alright. I guess… I kinda feel like a teenager again tonight. There’s your answer.”

“That’s unique to tonight?” She asked with a catty raise of her eyebrows. After pausing a beat, she gestured to her datapad. “I’m looking at some intel on Jack. I’m trying to figure out how to get through to her. She’s a tough nut to crack.”

“Yeah. She’ll crack  _ your _ nut if you’re not careful,” he warned as he lay back down. “You’d probably like that, though,” he added and snickered.

“Ugh,  _ ‘teenager’ _ is right,” she shot back, though her hidden smile told him she had taken his joke in the spirit it was intended.  _ Eh, she’s not so bad, _ he thought and watched her work for a moment, taking notes on one pad and reading from the other.

“Didn’t Taylor say he’d been talking to her, lately?” Joker offered. “You could see what he thinks.”

“Mmm,” she responded with a suspicious lilt to her tone. “He did say that. I’m not  _ so  _ sure there’s a terrific amount of talking going on there, though. I could be wrong. What do you think, Joker? You watch people a lot, too.”

“I dunno if he’s taken it in that direction. He might be working on it though. I think he probably has an in with her because he’s a biotic like she is,” he reasoned. “He’s also not a big Cerberus fanboy, which wins him points with her, even if he does work for them right now. Probably cancels out.” He crossed his arms, tapping his finger as he thought about the way Taylor had refocused Jack at the beginning of the poker round. “He’s got her attention, that’s for sure. But it’s not gone that far yet. He wasn’t able to stop her once she decided she’d had enough.”

“That’s pretty observant. Thanks,” she said, and jotted down a few notes. She gave him a bright smile. He  _ almost _ returned it. Almost.

“Uh-huh,” he said. “So, has anyone ever asked Jack what she  _ wants _ ? There’s gotta be somethin’ in that black, shriveled up little heart of hers.”

“Well, I’ve tried, but-”

“Hah, no, okay I’ll rephrase that. Has anyone  _ except you _ asked Jack what she wants. Your approach would be  _ way  _ off. No offense.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, lifting her stylus from the pad and tilting her head.

“Look,  _ you  _ \- and sometimes Shepard, too - you guys are too  _ nice  _ to Jack. She’s not used to that. Doesn’t trust it and it freaks her out. You notice how every time Shepard tried to de-escalate, Jack escalated? It’s classic stuff, come on. I bet the same thing happened to you,” he said, and looked over at her. “A few little nothings and then she blew her top, right?”

“Right.” She nodded. “I’d thought being consistent might wear her down. As for the Commander, I think she just doesn’t know any other way to be,” sighed Chambers. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it kind of sounds like you’re volunteering for the job.”

“Pfft, yeah, no. No way. Listen, I’m daring, not dumb. Go pick it up with Taylor, see if he’ll help. That’s all I got for you,” he said and picked up a datapad of his own. “Time to go argue with idiots on the extranet. Goodnight,” he said, and flicked his bunk’s light off, drawing the curtain up. He preferred to just look at the faintly glowing screen in the dark.

Of course, arguing with idiots was only  _ half  _ of what he intended to do, but as time passed and he browsed around the usual things that piqued his interest, he found himself not quite  _ seeing _ what he was looking at. It was all very nice, sure, but also a little boring perhaps, in a way that was unfamiliar to him.  _ I guess… it’s not what I’m looking for right now? I don’t know.  _ Frowning at the search bar, he was struck by a terrible, no-good, very bad idea.

_ ‘Bald chicks,’ _ he typed.  _ Interesting _ . Definitely some material with the vibe he was going for. He was scrolling leisurely through another page of results when an even more terrible, no-good, very bad idea hit him.  _ It’s bound to  _ _ exist _ _ , _ he thought.  _ But, isn’t it kind of weird to search for that? It’s different when it’s just random people or people who’ve agreed to it… but… It’s fine if it’s fake, right? Like if it’s art? _ It didn’t take long for the moral quandaries to resolve themselves in the face of what was at stake.

_ ‘Commander Shepard,’  _ he typed, poking the search tab with a sneaky, shameful thrill deep in the pit of his stomach.  _ Oh I’m  _ _ absolutely _ _ going to hell. _ The stream of results was overwhelming. Mock-ups, illustrations, look-alikes of her in all sorts of situations filled his screen. Some intrepid soul out there had put together a holo-model of her from an AVINA VI assistant’s skin database.  _ Oh  _ _ no _ _ , _ he thought, looking at the things done with it.  _ Oh,  _ _ yes _ _.  _

Picture after picture of ‘Shepard,’ giving him just the kind of ‘ _ come hither _ ’ looks he wanted to see passed by under his finger, one at a time. The pieces were well-observed, convincing work. So  _ tame  _ by his usual standards, the pinups nevertheless made his heart pound and he was enraptured by them. There she was, lying on a generic bedspread with a bright background that complimented the smoothness of her skin and accentuated her shape. Her legs were arranged in just such a way as to give the onlooker only the slightest glimpse of what lay between; it was all about the look, this picture. The lighting made the colour of her eyes pop. It looked like a professional shoot, and he imagined what it would be like to be the photographer in a room like that with the  _ real _ Shepard. The thought of getting her to pose for him, to touch and reposition her so as to show her off best was somehow second only to the idea of  _ telling her what to do. Telling  _ _ Shepard _ _ what to do. _ It was perverse, ridiculous… and very,  _ very  _ appealing.

The image of her, this powerful person, a hero to so many, down on her knees in front of him because she  _ wanted to be there _ was intoxicating. He’d been around the extranet block more than just a few times. He’d seen a lot of women beg from desire, but the look this artist managed to capture was something else when resting on her features.

But, there was more. More  _ moved _ , it seemed and Joker took a second to quadruple-check to make sure the sound on his datapad was set to go to his earpiece alone. He watched as a facsimile of Shepard slid out of a pair of Alliance fatigues. Animation was no doubt more difficult than still images and it didn’t look quite right. She didn’t carry herself like that, didn’t take steps like that, didn’t sway her hips when she walked in the way that he knew she did. In life, Shepard was effortlessly sexy in the way she made her hips roll with every step - he sometimes snuck a peek whenever she left her spot behind his chair in the cockpit. She had this way of placing her feet on the ground that made her almost soundless as she walked; something this copy lacked. 

The Shepard-esque model made her way to a bed, where of all people, a krogan lay. She straddled him, grinding up against him. He clapped his clawed hand to her rear, digging the points into her digital skin. He wasn’t a gentle lover, pinning her in place and as Joker watched, that feeling of eels squirming inside him grew. 

It wasn’t the idea of seeing a hulking krogan ride a much smaller woman to within an inch of her life that was so unnerving, he knew. Krogan were popular that way. The power they had at their disposal, the grasping claws, thick body and deep, feral growls left many weak in the knees, not to mention other parts of their physiology. That was fun; he’d seen that and got something out of it many times before. But as he watched that krogan’s hand grip that fake Shepard’s throat, heard a very good approximation of her voice groan with pleasure, he found himself uncomfortable and looking to skip the video.  _ I wonder if that’s how she really likes it?  _ People always demanded it harder and faster on the extranet, but the extranet was what he had access to and  _ like hell _ was he  _ asking  _ anyone about it. 

The next video had a similar theme, but with three guys in Alliance blues taking turns with a remarkably good lookalike, their strong physiques making it look easy.  _ Is that what it would take to make her sound like that?  _ To Joker, there was nothing sexier than seeing or hearing someone caught in the throes of passion, but it was always someone else’s game - a fact he long ago relegated to the back of his mind. Faced with the prospect of being in that kind of situation himself, old doubts started creeping in.  _ Well, I can definitely do some things, but I can’t move like  _ _ that _ _ ,  _ he thought. _ What if that’s what she wants, though? _ Skipping through the next few, he saw they all had the same ideas. It was all about testing the limits of what she could take. _ Man, this was all way easier to think about when I didn’t really think something could happen. _ He paused the video. Closed the browser. Joker stared up at the mattress above him with all the wind gone from his sails. Unvoiced questions and unspent frustrations swirled around his mind.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


Cards surrounded in pulsing blue light floated in interlocking patterns above Jack. She lay on her back, one arm in the air as she gestured towards them, manipulating the field that surrounded the little bits of paper. One by one, she arranged them until they created recognisable, increasingly complex shapes. A circle. A square. A star. A rabbit. A varren. A rumbling noise came from off to the side and a gust of cool air vented into the room and disturbed the cards.  _ Typical. _ The sensation of cold air passing over her skin made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. All of a sudden, gloved hands were gripping her arms, a needle was in the back of her neck, ice flooding through her veins - The cards launched in fifty-two different directions and fluttered down all over the floor. _ Fuck this. _ Killing time was all very well and good when every little thing didn’t conspire to remind Jack of a cell.

After Jacob left, no one came down at all for a few days. “ _Giving it time to cool off,”_ he called it. _What a bunch of bullshit…_ _Still, he’s alright. Makes a lot of sense. Really hard to piss him off though, and I don’t like that._ Thinking back to the poker game, shoving Shepard to the ground hadn’t felt as good as she thought it would and even with a few days on it, she couldn’t figure out why. Jack scowled, groping about for something to throw now that the cards were all over the place. Her fingers happened upon a loose bolt or something and she sent it hurtling at the metal wall just to hear the noise. _It’s like Shepard expects me to be grateful for this. To just sit here and rot on this fucking bucket._ Jack’s stomach growled. “Ugh,” she groaned aloud. _I guess I gotta find food sometime, too. At least I didn’t have to do_ _that_ _in cryo. More shit I should be grateful to Queen Shepard for, I guess._ Jack kicked the cards out of the way and stalked out of the little side room towards the elevator. _To be fair, Gardner makes good food,_ she thought as she leaned her back against the cold metal wall. _I don’t get why all these prissy bitches complain about it all the time. They should get force-fed some prison slurry for a few years. They’d_ _beg_ _for some overcooked broccoli or whatever the fuck._

She scanned the Mess out of habit, noting where each idiot sat wasting air, and plotted escape routes just in case things went south. She caught movement in her periphery and her focus snapped onto it. That scruffy guy with the hat and the fucked up bones. Always made sappy-ass moon eyes at Shepard like he didn’t think anyone else could see. _ That’s it.  _ _ He’s _ _ close to Shepard _ . “Hey, you, flyboy. I wanna talk to you.” 

“Ah, fuck,” he swore under his breath and froze mid-limp. “What do  _ you  _ want?”

_ At last, some fucking honesty.  _ She gave him a cold smile as he took ten years to turn around.

“What? I’ve got stuff to do,” he said. He stood a little straighter. It looked hard for him.  _ Aww, _ thought Jack.  _ I think he’s actually trying to look a little intimidating at me. Either that or he's just trying to look like he's not shit-scared. _

“Fuck off with the attitude,” she said with a derisive snort. ”I want to ask you something.”

“You want a favour and the first thing you do is tell me to fuck off? You know, I’d say I like your style, but you’re kinda holding me up right now. Cancels things out a bit.”

“Whatever. I’m not interested in playing games,” she lied. “You and Shepard have a long history. I want some insight,” she said.

“Insight?” he echoed, raising his eyebrow. “Insight about what?”

Jack paced, fixing her stare on him. “I want to know why Shepard would go through all the effort of bringing me out of cryo, convince me to park ass on this ship and take me to the ground  _ only once _ . It makes no sense. I’m sitting here, twiddling my thumbs, bored as hell and when I’m bored, I start to  _ think _ , and when I start to think, I get  _ mad _ . Right now I’m bored  _ and  _ mad.”

“Uh, okay. So you’re coming to  _ me _ because you’re pissed you haven’t been out with the shore party more often? Not my decision, not my problem. Talk to Shepard.” He looked to be doing some escape route calculations himself, his eyes darting off to the side.

“I’m trying to figure out what’s going on with her before I go asking her a favour,” she said, and stopped pacing.

“All about favours today, huh?”

“Don’t get smart with me,” she snapped. “And don’t play dumb, either. I know you and Shepard are real friendly. I’ve seen you two in here a bunch of times.”

“Look,” he said, and crossed his arms. “I don’t know why Shepard doesn’t take you with her, but obviously you’re not gonna go away, so here’s my best guess.” Joker looked to be bracing himself, maybe deciding whether or not he had the balls to say what he was thinking. “Maybe she hasn’t taken you with her because you’re the type of person to  _ push over somebody in a cast. _ ” He said with a hint of real anger behind his words. Jack narrowed her eyes, letting him continue. “As for why she picked you up? Simple. We need all the help we can get. But maybe she thought for some reason you didn’t deserve to just sit in an ice brick forever. You know, you might wanna try thanking her for that. If it was up to me, I’d have left you - and the body count attached to you - in the cooler. Satisfied?” 

Jack recoiled in surprise. “Wait a second. You think Shepard got me out because of some bullshit desire to  _ save  _ me?”

“Eh, seems the thawing process was a little flawed.”

“The fuck are you getting at?” she snarled.

“Don’t think it managed to thaw out that chunk of ice you call a heart. You might want words with the cryo company or something.” He had the nerve to turn his bent little back on her.

She growled with fury. “Screw you,” she barked. “You  _ and  _ Shepard!”

“Hey, insult me all you want, I really don’t give a damn,” he said over his shoulder. “But the Commander’s done nothing but favours for you so far. I don’t see why she’d stop now.”

“Maybe I just don’t feel like having to put my neck on the line for a bunch of fucking colonists. Doesn’t sound like she’s doing much of a favour to me.”  _ Every time I dig at Shepard, he stays in the argument. This is fun. _

Joker was doing a better poker face now than he ever did during a game, she had to admit, but Jack could sense his growing irritation as he turned back around. “I thought you said you’d only been out once? Isn’t that why you’re pissed off?”

“I’m pissed off,  _ flyboy _ , because I didn’t have a choice,” she hissed.

“What? You chose to do whatever it was to get you in prison, then you chose to come with us, and now you keep choosing to be an ass. So, don’t give me that bullshit.” He said with a shrug. “Just run off and get lost in the scenery when we dock on the Citadel if you hate it so much, I don't know. We done here?”

Jack enjoyed arguing. Nothing better to bust the monotony than sinking her teeth deeper and deeper into someone else’s brain until they squirmed.  _ Who’s gonna blink first, me or you? _ She thought and made a show of looking him up and down, as though sizing him up. The fact that he visibly tensed as though he anticipated getting hit when she looked him over made Jack feel good. “Fine choice she gave me. Only way out of prison is onto a Cerberus vessel and into a suicide mission. What the fuck kind of choice is that?”

“I dunno if you noticed,” he replied, lowering his tone, “But Shepard hasn’t made a secret of how she feels about Cerberus, and I’m only here because she is.”

“Oh yeah? Why doesn’t she  _ choose  _ to leave, then?”

“She doesn’t fly off into the sunset because there’s bigger things at stake here than pride. You’d know that if you pulled your head out of your ass once in a while and paid attention.”

“What, you mean the Reapers? Hmm, yeah, I dunno about that,” she said with a disinterested shrug.  _ He’s gonna  _ _ love  _ _ this one. _ “I read all the reports from the Citadel.  _ They  _ say the Reapers don’t even exist. The only proof we have is all based on some nutty vision in  _ Little Miss Thing’s _ head, right?”

“Man, I’m not even gonna bother with this,” he grumbled in clear exasperation. “Bye.”

“Ever think Shepard might just be  _ fuckin’ crazy _ ?” spat Jack.  _ Blink, motherfucker! Come on!  _

“She is  _ not  _ crazy,” he snapped, his outburst making Jack smile.  _ Got you. _ “Look,” he continued hotly, “you want to bother Shepard about something? I’m sure she’ll listen. She listens to  _ everybody _ . Even to total assholes like  _ you,  _ for reasons I’ll never understand.”

“Well, someone’s cruising for a bruising,” she said, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Oh, yeah, threaten the cripple for telling it like it is,” he snorted. “Would you rather I pretend to like you? Nah. Waste of both our time. I respect people enough to let 'em know where they stand with me.” This time, when he turned to go, Jack let him. 

She leaned back on one foot and crossed her arms. “Fair enough, flyboy,” she replied, but if he heard her, she couldn’t tell.  _ Maybe he's not such a prick after all,  _ she thought as she watched him drag himself off to wherever he was going.  _ You only know what people really think when you piss them off. Especially guys. Garrus is right about him.  _ _ He's _ _ fucking  _ _ easy _ _ to read. _ She turned away to face Gardner's direction. "Hey," she jerked her chin up at the cook. "Food?"

The older guy glanced up from scrubbing the countertops. "I keep telling you if you want something fresh you gotta come up at shift change mealtimes," he said. "But you never do,” he added and sighed. “I kept a bit aside for you."

"I'll have it, then," she said, and waited.  _ I won't ever fuck with this guy, though. That's the exception. I don't want piss in my scrambled eggs.  _

Feeling so refreshed from the argument, Jack even nodded at Gardner when he slid her the tray of food. She gripped the tray hard as she walked, protecting it out of instinct. The doors opened and she saw the sanctimonious turian standing in the elevator. She hesitated for the space of a heartbeat before she stepped into it herself and pressed her back to the wall in silence. Garrus also said nothing, and she watched his spindly finger press the door button from out of the corner of her eye. Jack popped a wad of cold scrambled eggs into her mouth and chewed. As the doors closed, she could feel his weird blue dragon eyes burning into the sides of her head like lasers, but she refused to look at him. _ Yeah, yeah, _ she thought.  _ I shouldn't have shoved her over, I get it. _ He continued to stare in silence, and she didn't like it one bit.

"Good morning, Officer," she said through the most dead-eyed smile she could pull. "Something you wanna say to me?" She asked, choosing to break the silence by busting his balls in between another mouthful of egg. He turned his head back toward the doors. When they opened, he left without a word. She watched him head to the engine core, probably to spend time rubbing his bony face all over Tali's helmet or something.  _ What the fuck is it with this boat and everybody hooking up? I don't get it.  _ She relaxed as she came back into her ‘room,’ this private space away from others. She crawled onto the bench fashioned into a makeshift bed and bunched up the fabric to make a comfortable place to sit, listening to the white noise of the engine as she picked at her food. Jack imagined what it would be like to have someone there with her in that way. It wasn't a pleasant thought, nor an easy one.  _ Maybe I do get it. It's good to have someone in the trenches with you… For a while, until it fucks up. _ She thought about Garrus and Tali stealing their time together down the hall, or that ridiculous sappy look that Joker gave Shepard, or the time she walked past and saw those engineers in the other room up against the wall together. It made Jack remember the last time someone looked at  _ her _ like that, and that shit was poison to think about.

So, she tried to get mad instead. Tried to replay the argument upstairs. Tried to enjoy the feeling of teasing someone until they felt pissed off and uncomfortable. Tried not to think about the fact that no one alive would ever defend  _ her _ like that scruffball had just defended Shepard. "Ugh," she muttered aloud. _ Shepard really pisses me off with that whole good girl routine. She doesn't  _ _ get _ _ me. But I guess that's kind of it. He's right… she'll probably still help me if I ask her to. Doesn't  _ _ need _ _ to get me. That's kind of fucked up if true _ . She considered this for a moment before tapping on her forearm to bring up her Omnitool.

_ To: Chambers, K. _

_ Subj: an oddiens with the queen _

_ Body: there is something i want to ask shepard about. Send her down here tx ps i know it got all fucked up last time but i want to try poker again? Or somethin else maybe _

Jack sat and waited. She knew Chambers would already be writing a reply; she sat looking at the communications all day and even though Jack used a private connection, she had a suspicion that  _ somehow  _ Chambers or somebody else had access to all her shit anyway. __

_ From: Chambers, K. _

_ Subj: RE: an oddiens with the queen _

_ Body: I’ll let her know as soon as she comes to the CIC. As for the cards, I can’t say for sure what the answer will be, but I’d like to try and help. Something that might be useful for you to do is if you ask yourself a few questions. _

  * _How would you deal with someone in a similar situation?_


  * What do you think should happen?


  * What are you willing to do to make the situation right?



_ I think it would be worth it for you to think about these questions and answer them in your own time. You don’t need to share the answers with me, but I’m happy to listen if you want feedback. _

Jack stared at the email.  _ Fucking therapists. _ Still, as she looked at the questions, she found herself considering them.  _ It’s not like I have anything better to do, I guess.  _

  
  


* * *

  
  


Joker reread the same line on the Engineering report three times before taking it in at last and moving on, checking items off down the list.  _ Well, that will only take three hours to fix, so let’s allot five… Man, why'd I let Jack get to me like that?  _ Joker thought to himself, still fuming over the argument even as he stared at the empty columns on Engineering’s most recent report.  _ She doesn’t know any damn better, so why do I give a shit?  _ Jack’s smarmy dismissal of Shepard’s warning - their entire mission - got under his skin.  _ That arrogant ass really can’t think of anything better to do than bitch and moan that she hasn’t been on enough murder field trips? Yeah, top priority stuff, let’s get Shepard right on that one. After everything she’s been through and done already… _

His mind’s eye took him back to watching the feed of the first major crew meeting after Shepard had taken command of the SR1 and brought Liara aboard. He saw a flash of Shepard standing in the middle of the conference room with her arms crossed, her words calm and measured although the muscles danced in her jaw. What she had to say was a tough sell. The others who hadn’t been down there on Eden Prime didn’t believe her. It was written on their faces and in their shared, worried glances. Nursing a developing little crush on Shepard as he was at the time, Joker wanted to believe her. He wanted her to be right, to  _ really have  _ seen something weird - But any doubts he might’ve had were erased when Liara confirmed it by looking into Shepard's brain with that thing asari can do. He kept it to himself, of course, but he recalled feeling a certain sense of vicarious pride for Shepard when the proof had borne out.  _ There’s just no way she’s nuts. Not after that… Jack was just trying to piss me off. I know she was. _

“You seem distracted, Mr Moreau,” said EDI. Her calm, soothing,  _ condescending  _ voice made him look up from the keyboard, annoyed.

“Yeah, I am  _ now _ ,” he grumbled, shooting the irritatingly serene blue sphere a dirty look.  _ I  _ _ hate  _ _ that thing. _

“For the past forty-seven minutes, your blood has exhibited heightened levels of adrenaline and testosterone, and your physical movements indicate that you may be experiencing anxiety. Is something wrong?”

“No. Nothing’s wrong. Go back to - wait, in my  _ blood _ ? Yeah, okay, because that's an extremely normal thing to say.”

“Your seat is equipped with visual, tactile, and olfactory sensors which feed data into my processors,” EDI replied.

Joker narrowed his eyes at the shimmering blue sphere. “So part of my job is to get felt up and have my hair sniffed by the AI? Well  _ I’m  _ asking for a raise.”

“I assure you, my monitoring of your biological signs is for your protection and has no sexual implication.”

“Right. So, tell me. If you’re trying to figure out what I’m feeling by what I smell like, what  _ do  _ I smell like?” he asked wryly. “In layman’s terms.”

“Based upon the collation of data available to me, vexed.”

“Uh-huh. And do you think that has anything to do with you piping up when I’m trying to do these maintenance schedules?”

“Your last keystroke on a report was recorded eleven minutes ago. I concluded that you were  _ daydreaming, _ Mr Moreau.”

“Oh, go recalibrate something.”

“I am already in the midst of three million, three hundred thousand and eleven separate calculations, some of which are calibrations involving dynamic variables.”

“Well, start again then.”

“Very well. I will be unable to respond to your requests for the next eight seconds.”

“I wasn’t being serious, EDI,” he said with a sigh.

“Neither was I,” it responded. Joker paused. EDI’s little visualiser line turned into a sine wave. “I would have been unable to accept new processes for six seconds.”

“ … Anyway,” he said as he opened a spreadsheet. “I’m not daydreaming. I’m  _ thinking about something _ . There’s a difference.” Joker didn't bother continuing along this weak line of defense and chose instead to continue slotting time blocks into the repair schedule. EDI's hologram stayed, blipping idly. He eyed it. " _ What _ ?" He asked, finally.

"Your statement suggested a forthcoming elaboration. I have found that altering my behaviour to visibly remain attentive increases the chance of a clarifying statement from fifteen percent to upwards of forty-three, depending upon the crew member."

"That's a lot of words to just ask me what I meant by that, EDI." He shook his head. "Depending upon the crew member, huh? Who elaborates the most?"

"Dr Solus clarifies his statements ninety-two percent of the time."

"Now  _ there's _ a surprise," he said dryly. "That guy is always asking questions and then spending an hour explaining why. Who else?"

"Grunt, at eighty-seven percent. He is a very positive individual," asserted EDI.

"A positive…? He  _ cornered _ me at the coffee machine yesterday to ask how much less pressure than normal it'd take to pulverise one of my vertebrae. I don't know if that counts as positive."

"It may interest you to note that Grunt discussed this interaction with me. His clarification suggests that he was threatening you in line with krogan custom."

"Pfft, you're going to have to narrow  _ that _ one down. I mean, krogan threaten each other just because the weather's nice," he snorted.

"This threat followed a conversation with Commander Shepard, in which she mentioned her upcoming plans to spend time with you. Grunt has identified you as his Battlemaster's chosen mate."

"Uh," said Joker worriedly, doing some awkward math. "Well, I wouldn't go  _ that  _ far… is he jealous or something?"

"If he is, he will attempt to kill you," blipped EDI.

"And nobody thought to warn me!? Why are you just telling me about this now?"

"He has acknowledged that human participation in krogan ritual is voluntary. Additionally, Grunt's behaviour does not indicate jealousy," EDI added, but Joker's mind was already whirring with thoughts of moving his bunk into the pilot's escape pod and just never leaving the cockpit again.  _ Chambers would bring me food, right? _

"What should I do?" He looked at EDI. "Threaten him back or something? That'll go down well.  _ 'Hey, Grunt. I'll give you the worst indigestion you've ever had in your life!'" _ he said, lifting his arms dramatically.

"You may consider responding with the relevant information," said EDI. "The purpose of this question is to willingly ascertain a weak point as a show of good faith, so that in the event of your betrayal, a krogan in Grunt's position is well armed for revenge."

He laughed. "You mean, in case  _ I _ betray Shepard? This is some real ' _ What are your intentions with my daughter' _ level stuff. I'm pretty sure Grunt wouldn't have any trouble if he thought I'd look better as a pancake."

"In this case, the question is symbolic."

"Alright," he said, shaking his head. He laughed as he pictured knocking on Shepard's door just to have Grunt answer, cocking a shotgun and demanding her home by ten. He brought up the comm panel and selected him. "Hey, Grunt?"

"Huh? Joker?" His baritone voice rumbled in Joker's ear.

"Yeah, uh, hey. So, after some thought, I got some info for you. I figure if you grabbed my spine between your fingers you'd probably only need to sneeze more or less to snap it in half. But, if you  _ really _ wanted to mess me up, just smash my hands. That way I can't do anything I actually like ever again."

"Heh heh heh," Grunt's slow laughter in response was unsettling. "Understood."

"Oookay. Great. Glad that's cleared up."

"As long as what you say doesn't get in the way of what Shepard wants, I'll do what you say now, too," Grunt said.

"… Do a jumping jack," he said without even thinking. He heard scuffling on the mic as Grunt stood up and Joker had to catch his laughter in the back of his throat.

"Just one? How many?" Grunt asked.

"Nah, I'm only testing you," he said, and tried hard to keep his face straight. "Keeping you on your toes, you know. You don't want to get lazy. Gotta be ready for orders any second."

"Heh heh heh," he laughed again. "You are a good choice," he said, and clicked the mic off.

Joker leaned back in his seat. "Man, I am having a  _ weird  _ day."

  
  
  


* * *

“What was all that about?” Shepard asked, looking up over her hand of cards towards Grunt, still standing up.

“It is an old custom. All settled.” Grunt said, and nodded as he returned to his cards. “I want a two,” he added.

“Go fish,” she replied. “An old custom? You’re a lot more observant of krogan traditions, lately.”

“Yes. I am pure krogan, I should embody the spirit of my people,” he said with an emphatic nod before his shoulders drooped, deflating a little. “This is not as fun as poker.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she said, watching him pick another card from the pile. “Gimme a ten?”

“Find a fish,” he said. “When can you hit things again?”

“About a week or two after the doctor puts a brace on.”

“You know,” he said, focusing with one eye down at her leg, “if you were a krogan I would break the other one and take the ship.”

“You’re welcome to try, krogan or not,” she said, meeting his eye. “Five?” She asked. 

He grinned and passed her a card. “Ask again.”

“Three?”

“Find a fish,” he said. “I want to go to the Citadel, too,” he said, his eye on her cast again. “I should go with you when we dock.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she said and smiled at him. “I’m going to go and speak to the Council. It’s nothing I haven’t done before.”

Grunt shifted in discomfort and scratched at a plate on his head. “Mm, yes. You are most fearsome, and I am proud to call you my Battlemaster,” he said, flaring his nostrils as he let out a deep breath.

“But?” She asked, collecting the cards together in a pile having sensed the game was over.

He pointed toward her leg. “You are weak. You are  _ urgaha,  _ a leader in a state of healing. You can’t look after yourself. This will be better soon, but it is not better yet. When you go out this time, you have to look after two people. I don’t think you can.”

Using her good leg, Shepard lunged forward, catching Grunt off guard as her braced elbow pressed against his throat. “I still have a few tricks up my sleeve,” she said, leaning her body weight forward until he let out a noise. He tapped the floor with the heel of his palm. “You see?” She asked, with a reassuring smile. He didn’t look appeased though, and Shepard looked down to see his claws clamped around her cast. He mimed crushing it, and his broad face wore a frown. His big slitted blue eyes blinked in a gesture of deference and Shepard had to mask how much his concern touched her. His worry was simpler somehow. It didn’t come from an actual loss of confidence in her, nor from any real desire to take over himself, nor arrogance and thinking he knew better. It just came out of what Grunt could see and understand.

“You humans are funny about your social things. You like to feel alone,” he said, looking as though he was searching for words. She sat down and waited for him to catch up to his thoughts. “Do you know why my people’s eyes are so far apart?”

“Why’s that?”

“Because we began as food for beasts on Tuchanka,” he explained. “We had to see wide to see them coming. It was only in clans that we turned into warriors.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “You are clan and  _ krantt _ . You helped me. Let me help you while you are  _ urgaha _ . I will stay out of sight,” he said.

“Alright. It’s hard to argue with that. You’ve made your case,” she sighed, patting his huge hand as it rested on her shoulder.

“Good,” said Grunt with a grin. “I hope you go near a café. I want to try a tea cake.”

Shepard laughed. "I should go. The CIC and its many wonders awaits," she said, pulling herself up onto her feet. Grunt passed her a crutch and nodded.

Once out of eyesight, she paused to pull the bottle of pills from her pocket and choke down a few dry. The itching was unbearable and as much as Shepard wanted to prove her point, lunging at Grunt really hurt. Inside the cast, her leg throbbed.  _ I can’t imagine having to have my leg in one of these things for months. It's already driving me nuts and it's barely been a couple weeks. I just want to  _ _ run _ _. _ Now a professional at dunking those awful grey horsepills down her throat without a chaser, she frowned at the bottle in her hand. As she leaned heavily on the crutches, they creaked. She remembered Joker telling her about his tons of surgeries and broken bones.  _ He must've been like this for most of his life.  _ She pictured him, a little bit younger, standing in much the same way as she was now, on the dim streets of a station somewhere - he had grown up on a station, hadn’t he? The image came to her easily. So, too, did the memory of his defensive, bristling tone those years ago when Shepard first tried to get to know him. She remembered listening patiently to his tirade, his preemptive justifications, his heated annoyance at having to go through the spiel for yet another nosey senior officer. His attitude might have annoyed her, had it not been so glaringly obvious that Joker was only ever angry with a long, long line of those who came before. A warm feeling flowed through her as she thought about the difference between then and now. She was so relieved a few nights ago after that utter mess of a poker game to have found him sitting there, still, even after the others left. He was so sincere in a way that took knowing him well to really see. His kiss with her right then was always running through her mind.

  
The kiss was perfect. It was like the feeling of leaping into a clear lake in the oppressive heat of a long summer’s day. It felt like being washed clean of all the galaxy’s grime, sadness and desperate mistakes, and filled with something easy and pure in its place. His venturesome touch made her feel restored in a way she struggled to describe, yet longed to feel. With a little flutter in her belly, she remembered the eager way he leaned in, and how his fingertips had gone cold against her cheek - from nerves, perhaps. When he kissed her, it was not only enough to make her forget everything else, but enough to make her _want_ to. 


	10. Teacakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and Joker go on a no-frills, date for people who have to sit down a lot, temporarily or permanently.

_ “It’s so hard to keep this smile from my face _

_ Losing control, yeah I’m all over the place _

_ Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right _

_ Here I am, stuck in the middle with you” _

_ Stuck in the Middle with You, Stealers Wheel _

Shepard fussed with the hood of her sweatshirt that hung loose about her slim frame. The Upper Wards spread out like four gargantuan flower petals, each one crammed with skyscrapers and the occasional spot of green. As the taxi’s altitude increased, passing from one Ward to the other, buildings at first shrank down to toy size. They shrank further still, until the city looked like so many circuit boards gleaming silver in the Citadel’s eternal daylight. The cab jerked from one lane to the other, and Shepard found herself hoping the ride would soon be over.  _ He certainly has an interesting style of driving,  _ she thought as she stole a look at the man in command of the car. They rotated, descending onto a different arm of the megastructure and within a few moments the cab levelled off, easing into one of the many grid patterns formed by the constant traffic. The city became a blur of grey and glass as they sped by much faster than she’d gone on Illium.  _ I wonder where it is I’m headed? Joker didn’t really say. Just said not to dress up. Now  _ _ that’s _ _ a request I can handle. I can’t imagine anything more daunting than trying to look good after the day I’ve had.  _ Neon and plasma signs glistened harshly against dark silhouettes of buildings as the taxi glided down to street level. Soon, the outlines of trees came into view as the car slowed to pull up next to a kerb where several others were parked in a line.

“Right here, missus,” the driver said, slinging his elbow over the headrest of his seat as he turned to look at her. She tapped her Omnitool to a small metal square he presented her, and his eyes narrowed. “Ain’t I seen you before?” he asked.

“You might have,” she replied with a friendly nod. “I get around. Thanks for the ride, sir.”

Grunt lumbered out of the back seat and leaned back, looking up at the colossal skyscrapers before he passed her the crutches. She tucked them under her arms and swung her way over to one of several colourful bushes, something she remembered from Joker’s description. True to his word, she found a broad path that cut a clean arc through the trees, and she set off down it. It wasn’t long before she rounded a corner and saw him some yards off, sitting on a bench with his hands in his jacket pockets as he overlooked an artificial lake. Shepard looked behind her, and wherever Grunt had gone, he was well out of sight. As she drew nearer to the bench, Joker must have heard the clicking of the metal on cobbles as he turned to look. Sitting down next to him, Shepard looked him up and down.

“You don’t even take that off when you’re off duty?” she asked, gesturing to his black and white ballcap.

“This? Nah. It suits me.” He fished around and passed her a blue bag with an unfamiliar atom logo. “So, I wasn’t kidding when I said  _ not fancy _ . Wanted to get one of these for ages.”

“Takeout?”

“Yeah. So we could, you know, enjoy this  _ scenic vista _ right here. Gotta admit, I’m disappointed. I was expecting ducks, you know like you always see in the vids of Earth? But this is just a square hole in the ground with some water in it,” he said, and shrugged.

“Well, there’s a willow tree and some flowers. It makes a nice change to see something green,” she said as she unwrapped the food. She felt herself smile upon recognising what he’d brought. “How very classic of you. I don’t think I’ve actually had a burger in  _ years _ .”

“Yep. Honest-to-god dead cow, just like I told you I wanted to get. Only a few places do it now. I figured you might be in the mood for something, uh,  _ unpretentious  _ after a day with the blowhards.”

“You’re definitely right about that. I think I lack a civilised palate,” she said. She bit into it and a dollop of ketchup squished out onto her hand. Shepard wasn’t fussy when hungry and just licked it off. It was good. Such a stark change from the carefully prepared, preserved, and sometimes strange meals on the Normandy. It reminded her of days long gone, before she’d enlisted, before she’d ever left Earth.  _ Interesting how a smell or a taste can take you back in time like that. _

“I’d say your palate is definitely civilised if you prefer that over two pieces of parsley and a slice of pan-fried air for dinner.” He shook his head. “So. Do I even wanna know?” He lifted the brim of his cap and looked over at her with the kind of smile that said he already knew something about what he was going to ask. “How was the Council?”

“Oh, you know,” she said in between swallowing mouthfuls. “We’re all used to it by now. Save the universe yourself, because we’re too busy to care.”

“That well, huh?”

She stared off into the little square lake. “It’s not arguments over mining rights or a tax reform. According to them, it’s just those  _ wacky naked monkeys _ whining because their colonies are being abducted. Asari, salarians and turians aren’t being affected, so from their perspective it’s a  _ purely human affair, _ and why get involved in that? The lives of millions of innocents just aren’t compelling enough, I suppose,” she fumed. It felt good to unload. “If it was turian or salarian colonies, the Council would launch a full-scale investigation and send fleets out to protect them. And you know what? I’d be right out there with them, on the front lines.”

Joker moved up the bench to sit a little closer. “Yep. I know you would.”

“Oh but the  _ best  _ part is that they don’t even believe the Reapers are real. They took what happened on their own doorstep, filed it away and decided it wasn’t worth making a fuss over. They took yours and mine and everybody else’s sacrifices and just threw them to the wind. People died here to protect this place and in return, the Council makes up some story about how Saren was the real threat,” she said, glowering. 

He leaned back and followed her gaze out to the water. “I’m not one to second-guess your decisions, but sometimes I wonder what it would’ve been like with a different Council. You know what I mean?”

Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yes. I know exactly what you mean, unfortunately. I find myself wondering that sometimes as well. I’m not proud of it, but it’s true.” She breathed in deep and exhaled slowly as she opened her eyes to watch the ripples on the surface of the lake. “I really don’t regret the decisions I’ve made, even if they sometimes frustrate me.”

“Pfft. You’d think they’d have listened. The last time they ignored you, a giant robot landed in their backyard and blew up in their faces.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “They reinstated my Spectre status as a  _ show of good faith _ . All I can do is hope that means that maybe, someday they’ll help us.”

“Yeah, well. Excuse me if I don’t hold my breath,” he muttered, looking up towards the Presidium.

She gave him a grim smile before she looked back out at the water. They were both quiet for a few moments as they ate. Shepard picked at the bits that had fallen out onto her wrapper. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out of uniform before,” she said. “I like the bomber jacket thing you have going on.”

“Ah, yeah it’s pretty ancient. It was my dad’s,” he said and looked down at the well-worn brown leather.

“Yeah? I don’t have anything of my dad’s. Where’d you grow up?”

Joker balled up his wrapper and threw it into the bag before picking up a piece of foil, folding it. “I was born in the Saint Thomas Sector, on Arcturus Station. Grew up there with my mom and sister mainly. Dad was KIA in the First Contact War.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Eh, don’t be. He was always running off doing whatever for the Alliance and then he died. Didn’t know him very well, but mom says he was a smart-ass like me.” Joker frowned looking at the lake. “Man, I can’t  _ believe  _ there are no ducks,” he said. “I brought bread and everything. Ah well. This'll have to do.” He lifted up the foil, now folded to look like a bird, and pulled on its tail to make its wings twitch.

“Ducks or no ducks, I’m happy to just spend some time with you,” she said. He closed the gap between them, and the movement jostled her leg, making it twinge. She rubbed at the top of her calf with her knuckles. “This itches like  _ crazy _ .”

“Yeah, I hear you. I was like that for almost all of last year. I had tons of surgeries all around the same time. They weren’t fun. They replaced a few of my smaller bones with straight up fakes and wove fibers around the rest. I can move around a lot easier now though.”

“So I’ve noticed,” she said.

“So… you know. I never really asked. You’re sure that whole thing doesn’t, uh… bother you?” he asked.

“What whole thing? You mean your Vrolik’s Syndrome?”

“It’s kinda hard to miss about me.”

“No,” Shepard said as she picked up the little foil bird and fiddled with it, curling the wings around her fingers. “I’m aware that it’s there, but It's never been a factor in the way that I think about you.”

“Okay. Just checking,” he said with a nod. Joker and Shepard both watched as a young couple walked by them on the path. Totally absorbed in each other, they were physically wound around one another as they went. They looked happy, and Shepard casually tracked them as they continued on.

“It’s been a long time for you since being involved with someone?” she asked.

“It… you could say that, yeah,” he said.

She looked back at him. Their eyes met and Shepard thought she saw a little colour come to his cheeks.

“Maybe you remember me saying? But because of all that, my  _ little black book _ doesn’t, ah… have entries in it. I’ve never been willing to risk it. Too busy or too careful. So, this is all new, and, uh. Yeah.”

“I see,” she said. One of her hands found its way up to the nape of his neck, her fingertips brushing up and down his skin. He lowered his head at her touch to give her better access, and the look in his eyes became a little glazed and unfocussed. She chuckled. “It’s a bit magic, that spot,” she said.

“Mmm, uh-huh,” he murmured through a soft smile in response. 

Shepard closed her eyes. The scent of flowers and grass was thick in the air, water lapping against the edge of the pathway filled her ears, and the warmth of him sitting next to her and melting under her touch just completed the sensory picture. After a moment, she let her hand drop down to rest across his shoulders.  _ If I could stay right here, like this, I would. _ “Thanks for suggesting this,” she said.

“Eh, I had to come off the ship sometime.”

“Yeah. Speaking of the ship, I wanted to tell you something, and I think it’s important for you to hear.” She straightened up, placing her hands on her lap. “I’m not… quite sure what’s going on here, between you and I…”

“I mean, what do you  _ want  _ to be going on?”

“That’s just it,” she said and looked down into her lap. “It can’t be my call. In other parts of our lives, I expect to tell you to fly, and for you to ask me how high… but not on this. I wanted to tell you that if you decided to walk away from this for any reason, I won’t let it bite you in the ass.” She jutted her jaw, trying to think of how best to phrase herself. “I’m not…  _ ignorant _ . My position is always going to affect anything like this, and there’s very good reasons behind why getting friendly with your superior officer is…  _ looked down upon _ , shall we say.” Shepard looked off to the side and touched her hand to the back of her neck. “I’m… maybe a little more familiar with that than I should be.”

He gave her a long look. “Lonely at the top, huh? Well, if you’re putting me in charge… I know what I want, at least,” he said, and drew her into a kiss. It was the kind she could have lost herself in, and when she broke away, she embraced him.

“I hope we both live to find out what this is,” she said, staving off feeling the weight of the world by holding him. It felt good to admit, just  _ once _ , to  _ somebody _ , that she wasn’t certain they would. “I really do, because I’m sure there’s nothing I want more.”

“Heh, hey, don’t talk like that,” he said. Something in the tone of his voice made her throat tighten and her chest ache with a tenderness she couldn’t afford to name. “I mean, hey,” he continued. “You might not make it out in  _ one piece _ ,” he said as he gestured to her leg, “but you’ll make it out.”

“Comforting,” she said, and refused to let go just yet.

“Are you kidding? I’m the most comforting guy around,” he replied. “That’s because I’m a realist. The point is, you’ll kick ass and come out of it on the other side. That’s the important part.”

“Yeah,” she said.

“Besides,” he added quietly, after a long pause. “I’m scared, too. You’d be stupid if you weren’t.”

Shepard stared up through the thin atmosphere and out towards the stars, just visible behind the swirling clouds that surrounded the Citadel like a veil of safety. “You ever get those moments where you just feel really small?”

“Nah. Can’t relate. I’m larger than life. And so are you.”

Despite herself, she smiled as she lay her head back on the wooden slats of the bench, catching glimpses of tiny, misshapen dots far above that she knew to be ships. “I guess there’s a silver lining, though.”

“Oh?”

“I could be sitting here alone, but I’m not,” she said, and rolled her head to the side to look at him.

“That’s the spirit. You could not be on this bench at all. Besides. It’s not like you’re alone or whatever,” he said and shrugged. “Everyone has your back.  _ Blowhards  _ excluded, but, you know. Everybody else. And I should know, too… I listen in on their conversations,” he said with a mischievous smile.

“ _ Joker _ .”

“What? Long hours in that cockpit. It’s like a soap opera that never takes an hour off. Anyway, the point is, we’re all with you. Especially me, and seeing as how  _ I’m  _ flying the ship, it’s basically impossible to fail,” he said, and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Sooner or later, we’ll find something that will help us take ‘em out, and whatever it is, it’ll be in a big way. I’ve seen you throw a punch. You hit  _ hard _ .”

“Ah, yes. Punching. The galactic problem solver.”

“Well if you ever get sick of it, you could always go back to ground school. Learn how to be my wingman,” he said with a smile and shrugged. “You know, when the coming war is over. Which it  _ will be _ . Not sure you should bunk off right now, though.”

“Hmm. Only if I can get a callsign I  _ like _ .” She picked up his hand, tracing his palm with her thumb. “The last one wasn’t a crowd pleaser, I’ll just say.”

“Nobody likes their callsign, Shepard.”

“Yeah, but… Okay. Here we go.” She took in a deep breath through her nose. “So the reason why there’s not a whole lot of information on my stint in ground school is because most of the records were expunged. I’m guessing you found that out when you had a little look-see in my file, huh?”

“I didn’t look in your file,” he said, paying rapt attention. “Extranet, actually. But, uh. Expunged records? Did you fly a shuttle into a school bus or something?”

“So, I was doing alright. Bonding with the squad and all. One night I won six games of Blackjack in a row, so they called me Dealer’s Choice after that.”

“I’m gonna be honest Shepard, I’ve heard a lot worse. Hell,  _ mine  _ is worse.”

“That’s only half the story. Pen your pyjaks,” she said. “So, you remember when I told you I was a little bit of a troubled kid? The fresh-faced cadet version wasn’t much different…” She paused and turned to look him in the eye, poking him in the chest with her finger. “Joker, you had  _ better  _ take this to your grave.”

“It’s totally gonna go in your tell-all.”

“Anyway. I had this, uh, tendency which I can only describe as being deeply unfortunate, and that was to kind of look for love in all the wrong places.”

“Ya don’t say? I think that’s a prerequisite for ground school.”

“Right, well, the Flight Instructor and I -”

“Oh no,” he said, and sucked air in through his teeth.

“Oh yeah. So, he told me he was going to leave his wife for me, he was going to take me away from all this and we’d fly off into some… grand future, or something,” she said, gesticulating with her hand in a dismissive wave. “I can’t remember the words, now. It was a long time ago. I was eighteen and unloved, so it sounded like a good idea.” She closed her eyes and smiled with embarrassment. “Anyway. Scuttlebutt got out, and my callsign got changed.”

“To?” he asked, his shoulders tensing with anticipation.

“Teacher’s Choice.”

“Oh.”

She let out a long sigh. “It’s fine, you can laugh.”

“No, it, uh. It’s not that.  _ You’re _ Teacher’s Choice?” he asked in disbelief.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“Expunging the records doesn’t do much where it comes to unofficial sources. I mean… There was some guy on the extranet who told that story, said he wouldn’t identify the cadet ‘cause she was part of his squad and the instructor was still working. Everyone thought he was full of it.” He shook his head. “I hang around a lot of the little back corners where pilots post and stuff.”

“Great. So, I decided I couldn’t stay. But, I’m not a quitter. I decided if I was going to quit, I was going to quit  _ up.  _ So I applied for N7 Candidacy,” she said. “Flight Instructor didn’t stop me. Had the good grace to put in a recommendation, even. So… That’s the story of why I’m on this bench.”

“Joker and Dealer’s Choice, huh?” He mused aloud. “I heard those two are real cards.”

“No.”

“They got dealt such a rough hand,” he said and smiled.

“Stop.”

“One’s a flying ace, and the other knows when to hold ‘em.” His grin grew wider.

“Ugh,” she groaned. She reached over and plucked his cap off.

“I hope you like asari scale lice,” he said. She ignored him and fanned herself with it.

“Do you even know how you  _ get  _ asari scale lice?” she asked. “You have to  _ be an asari. _ ”

“My secret’s been revealed at last,” he said, and looked relieved when she put it back on his head.

She lifted up the little foil bird. “I am going to keep  _ this _ , though.”

“Uh, sure? I can make you one that doesn’t have mustard on it, if you want.”

“There’s no mustard on it. This one’s good.” She smiled as she put it in her pocket. 

“You wanna stay here a while and pretend there’s ducks some more? We could still throw the bread. Then when people ask, we can say there’s invisible ones.”

Shepard looped her arm through his and lay her head on his shoulder. “Depending on who sees, they might think it’s some kind of  _ human custom _ , and then before you know it everyone’s throwing bread in the ponds.” She laughed, visualising the Keepers wading out with nets to pick up all the soggy bread. “So… if we’re talking about after the war, what do you want to do?”

“I wanna do whatever keeps me flying,” he replied as he tried his own hand at tracing his fingers up and down the back of her neck. “I know I belong up there. Pretty sure you do, too, one way or another.”

“I hadn’t given much thought to the idea until now.  _ After the war _ seems like such a nebulous concept given that it hasn’t really started yet. But it makes sense to think about it like that.” She tilted her head as she gave the idea some thought. “I guess I can’t imagine myself ever stopping. What does it mean when people stop, anyway…? Sit around? Raise  _ kids _ ?” Shepard shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know the first thing about either of those.”

He snickered. “ _ Well _ Shepard, when a man and a woman love each other  _ very much _ \--”

“Don’t make me take your hat again,” she said. “Anyway. You’re probably right. I think I belong up there, too.” Together, they looked back up at the ships drawing so many lines through the thin layer of white clouds that the Citadel held so close.

After a time, he stretched his arms in front of him, cracking his knuckles. “How are you at walking right now?” he asked.

“Is there anything to see around here?” she asked, giving her leg a tentative stretch.

“I dunno, but let’s go find out. I mean, if we don’t find out within the next five hundred yards, we’ll probably both die, but we can at least say we tried.” He stood up, and a flash of bemusement crossed his features before he took her hand to help her to her feet. “Heh. I guess it’s the lame leading the lame.”

She put the crutches under her arms. For once, it was Joker who was waiting up on her. In the time since getting the cast she had figured out a good technique, and was soon keeping up. It felt good to move. She missed doing push ups before her morning shower, making unnecessary trips all around the decks without thinking about it. Hell, she missed just walking briskly, but as the days went by it was easier, she had to admit.

“I think this will come off soon, and I’ll get that brace.”

“Upgrade. Just, when you do, don’t pull a me and immediately put yourself back in crutches because getting to walk was so great. I did that  _ twice _ .”

Perhaps it was her imagination, but he really did seem to be walking just a little straighter. Joker always had this odd shamble to his gait that came from the way he tried to minimise the time he spent balanced on just one foot during each step. He held his right shoulder up as a kind of counterweight to what she assumed was some kind of reduction in control of his left leg, but his posture looked more even as of late. He checked over his shoulder to make sure she was still following along.

“You’ll never guess who I’ve just seen up ahead,” he said, and nodded towards a quaint little shop with a yellow awning. Grunt’s hulking shape sat at a wrought iron table, his bulk making it look miniscule. Even at this distance she could see his grin as he spread butter on a tiny round thing - a tea cake, she surmised. He looked up and saw them, and Shepard felt herself laugh softly as Grunt looked about, conflicted. She watched as the gears turned in his head.  _ Stay hidden? Or tea cake? _

“What’s with him?” asked Joker. 

“Oh. He was a little worried about me going off the ship, so I told him he could come along if he just stayed out of sight.”

“Krogan chaperone, huh? Let’s go annoy him. I could go for a coffee and he won’t headbutt me if  _ you’re  _ here.”

“You’re the boss,” she said, and turned up the little side street that headed up to the door. 

The smile he gave her was halfway between a smirk and something rather salacious. “Yeah, you’re right. I  _ am _ .”

“I’ve created a monster,” she said under her breath, just loud enough for him to catch.

“Oh, you have no idea,” he said as he pulled the door open and held it for her. 

She met his eyes as she passed through. “I had no idea you were such a shameless flirt, I’ll give you that.”

“I’m a man of many talents. Shameless and otherwise,” he said, and tapped on the bill of his cap.

“Perhaps I’ll be the judge of that,” she said coolly. Her comment had the intended effect, it seemed, as he cleared his throat and looked away from her toward the menu at the far wall. She continued on past tables full of patrons. The familiar, yet unpleasant sensation of eyeballs tracking her as she moved made her look around out of the corners of her eyes.  _ I’ll never get used to being a public figure, really, _ she thought as she approached Grunt’s little table.  _ These people don’t seem to recognise who I am though, which is good… News about that won’t be widespread yet. I think they’re just looking at the crutches. _

An asari in an apron and carrying a tray of samples wound her way through the crowded café tables. As Shepard drew near, the waitress turned around. Her face fell and her glare was like ice.

“Sorry, Ma’am. I mean to get past you, my friend is over there.” Shepard felt a slight flush creep across her cheeks as she looked from the asari towards Grunt, her path to his table blocked.  _ What did I do? Is there some custom I’m not aware of? _ She wondered as the periwinkle woman’s expression darkened, her lip curling into a sneer.

“Samples! Hey, thanks!” Joker exclaimed as he shifted around from behind Shepard and plucked one of the sweet pastries off the tray. He wobbled a little when he reached her, which made her step back half a pace. “Oop, bad legs y'see. Nice, nice. I’ll just take one extra for my buddy in the armour over there, huh? I bet he’d love one of these.” He ushered Shepard on ahead. She noticed as he gave the waitress an appreciative nod. He hung back until she reached the table.

“Hey, Grunt,” Shepard said as she eased herself down into one of the chairs. “How’s the tea cakes?”

“Dry on their own, but good with jam,” he said, closing his eyes as he nodded towards three empty jars to the side. “I like tea. Dr Chakwas said I should try some. I understand it now.” He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at her as he huffed the air. “You smell different.”

“Uh,” she replied with a bemused chuckle. “I do?” She shot Joker a questioning look, but he wasn’t paying attention, eyeing the long line of customers at the counter and the asari with the sample tray instead.

“Hmm,” said Grunt as he picked up another cake. “Less adrenaline. Not as sharp. Did you get bored of being alone with Joker? Is that why you’re here?”

“No,” she said and smiled. “The opposite. I’m relaxed, I think.”

“You think?” Grunt echoed. "You don't know?" She had to laugh as he picked up a teacup, dwarfed in his huge, three-fingered hands.

"I think it's safe to say  _ we _ won't be getting any table service," muttered Joker, still staring back into the building.

"What was her problem, I wonder?"

"She recognised you," he said. "That was more than your standard disdain for humanity. She's not part of the fan club for whatever reason."

Grunt paused in the middle of buttering another scone. "There's a club?"

"Didn't you know? Yeah, I'm the President," said Joker as he popped the pastry square into his mouth.

"Huh. Well, I want to be Vice President," said Grunt with a grin.

"I dunno," replied Joker with a sceptical shrug. "That's a lotta responsibility."

"Hold on. You're  _ serious _ ?" Laughed Shepard. 

Joker looked at her as he chewed his pastry. “You have a pretty big, uh…” he trailed off, his eyes flicking upwards as he searched for the word. “ _ Following  _ on the extranet, yeah. I’m just kidding, though… Sort of,” he said as he picked up the second pastry bit. “Some guy called VernerAfterburner is the President.”

“Oh.” Grunt huffed.

“That is… Hm,” she thought aloud. “I remember what fan communities were like on the extranet when I was a kid. You seem pretty familiar with it, are you signed up?”

“I’ve looked at it once or twice. I like to keep track of the rumours. Sometimes I think they know where we’re going before  _ we  _ know.”

Picking a scone off Grunt’s plate, she buttered it herself. “About how much of the community revolves around that one time I did a bathing suit pinup for the Alliance Annual Calendar when I was twenty?”

Joker coughed. “I, uh. No clue. But that  _ definitely  _ sounds like something I’m gonna find out.”

“Why were you in a bathing suit for that?” Grunt asked. “Humans look much better in armour.”

“What, you're telling me krogan don't like to look at women showing themselves off?” Asked Joker with a sly smile.

“Yes. But krogan women show off their potential as capable warriors and mothers with how strong they are. Without armour, you look vulnerable. Especially humans. So  _ soft  _ all over.” Grunt shook his head. “If you see stuff like that and the people don’t have at least most of their armour on, then it wasn’t made for us.”

"That… actually explains a lot," mused Shepard. She sat back in her chair and touched her hand to her chin, thinking about certain avenues of extranet content that she had spent some time examining on occasion in the past. "I never thought about that part of it being so anthropocentric before."

"So… uh, what?" Asked Grunt, blinking.

"Human-focussed,” she said. “I guess I’ve always thought all the species prefer seeing what’s underneath."

"Oh. Yeah. You humans sure seem to like looking at it that way."

“So… then most of what’s out there with your people is actually made by other species, then,” she puzzled aloud. “You learn something new every day.”

“I’ll say.” Joker said and cocked his eyebrow. “Not that I’m doubting you, but how are you privy to that little metric?”

“The same way you are.” She answered as she leaned on the table. She looked over at Grunt. “Anything left in that teapot?”

“I will get more.” Grunt stood up from the table.

“Hey, uh, coffee for me instead? Also maybe  _ don’t  _ order it from that asari. She might spit in it.” 

“Uh-huh,” Grunt said over his shoulder.

As they both watched him duck under the doorway, she felt Joker’s hand on her knee under the table. He slid his palm a little more than halfway up her thigh. “The same way  _ I’m  _ privy to that, huh?”

“I don’t think I stuttered. Did I?” She copied his gesture and looked deep into his eyes with an unspoken challenge. “I thought I told you that I use that network bypass you made?”

“Yep. I remember you saying. I think I deleted my history about six times over that night just to be sure.”

She passed her eyes over the horizon in a casual scan. Other patrons chatted amongst themselves, enjoying the colourful cakes and drinks laid out on their tables. Grunt was standing in the long queue and bounced in place. Under the table, Shepard swept her fingers up the inside of Joker’s thigh, stopping shy of his groin. She gave his leg a gentle squeeze and smiled when she heard him blow a heavy breath through his lips. All of a sudden, she felt him freeze up.

“You, uh. Haven’t used it lately, have you?” He asked. “No reason, just uh…”

“Relax Joker,” she said and smiled as she met his eyes. “I’m all for a little bit of mystery. I don’t go through people’s extranet history unless lives depend on it somehow.”

“Good. Now where were we?”

“About here, if I remember correctly,” she said, and inched up his inner thigh still further. Her fingers brushed up against the front of his pants before she traced her way back down again towards his knee. Shepard enjoyed this tease. She could almost play him like an instrument - the higher her fingers explored up his leg, the more he tensed, like a plucked string.  _ If we weren’t in public right now…  _ She imagined how he’d look lying on his back beneath her. How that tension she could feel in him like an electric current as she stroked up his leg might feel if only it were being focussed in  _ her  _ instead. Would he close his eyes? Make a sound? Bite his lip? Every thought was more delicious than the last. She ached to show him just how close she wanted to be.  _ Come on,  _ she thought as she leaned into him.  _ Ask me to go back to the ship. Tell me you’ve got some kind of excuse to follow me up to my quarters.  _ No such words were forthcoming, however. She watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed in a somewhat heavy swallow, his fingertips having gone cold when he rested his hand on hers. She liked the way he looked with his defensive sarcasm and self-aggrandising bluffs stripped away. Left behind was someone so sensitive and sincere that it didn’t look as though he knew how to handle even these simple games under the table without his cheeks reddening.  _ Even though  _ _ you started it _ _ , _ she thought. As he turned his head away she caught a glimpse of the smile that played across his lips. Brief, but unmistakable.  _ Shyness.  _ Joker was trying to hide something of a bashful grin from her. Shepard almost shook her head in disbelief.  _ Joker?  _ _ Shy _ _?  _ _ Really _ _? What happened to the man of many talents, shameless and otherwise? _ She glanced over at Grunt, saw he was near the front of the line. She lifted her hand off Joker’s leg and gave him a good-natured nudge on his shoulder.  _ I won’t push you, don’t worry. _

He nudged back. “I didn’t say stop,” he said as he looked back toward her.

“You didn’t have to,” she replied and lay her head on his shoulder.

He was quiet for a second. “Well, thanks, but… Okay, let me rephrase.” He looked at her with a mischievous glint in his eye. “ _ Don’t  _ stop.”

Pressed up against him as she was, it was very easy for her to slide her hand all the way from his knee right up to his front, where she paused for a second. His eyes widened and he looked to either side. Just the reaction she was looking for.

“Careful, or you’ll have a monster all your own to deal with,” she said and lifted up off him. She peered at him through one eye as she raised her arm skyward in a casual stretch.

“That a promise?” He asked. She noticed his eyes as they travelled down her. “My very own monster sounds pretty good, gotta say… plus, no one would ever mess with me if I could just turn around and sic  _ you _ on ‘em.”

“Oh, you can already do that. Just tell me what to do,” she said with a warm smile and kissed his scratchy cheek. She caught sight of Grunt on his way back to the table bearing a tray.

The krogan grinned as he set out some things on the table, including another mountain of scones. She saw him look off to the side and pause, as if tracking a scent. He looked the two of them over, his wide-set eyes flicking between them, then shook his head and sat down.


	11. Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard: *Has complex feelings about a friend's request, duty and bodily autonomy*  
> Joker: *dawning horror* The feelings are coming from inside the house  
> Morinth:

_ Today’s the day! _ Shepard sat on the gurney in Dr Chakwas’ office, her leg free from the cast and all washed up. She felt like a little girl, almost bouncing with anticipation as she watched the doctor approach. Chakwas gestured for Shepard to stand up, and as she did so applied a small black metal box to her calf. The device unfolded with the soft grinding sound of metal on metal. It formed a lattice that wrapped around her leg, its polyalloy webbing rising in a pattern until it finished off just below the knee.

“With this at my disposal, the Reapers don’t stand a chance,” she said, peering down at its gunmetal grey filaments, much like a spider’s web fitted tight around her calf. She slid off the gurney onto her good leg. As she let her weight down little by little, the device’s wiring glowed blue and emitted a slight biotic smell. “I guess I wasn’t expecting… whatever this is?”

“A research lab in Illium volunteered this prototype, Commander,” said Dr Chakwas as she straightened up. “It uses a very slight and precise mass effect field to absorb impact. It won’t be responsive enough to run and fight with, but it should serve you well for walking about.  _ Carefully _ ,” she added. “Over the next two weeks it will let more and more of your own weight down, until you don’t need it anymore. Do let me know how you get on.”

With some hesitance, Shepard stood on one leg, watching the wires glow brightly to compensate. Nothing hurt.

“Wouldn’t these work for Joker?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

“Mm, I came across this project whilst looking for solutions for him. The asari scientists who developed it tell me that at the moment, the technology is still a prototype. As such, it is subject to malfunctions where it can put some stress on the underlying bone from time to time. For you, this isn’t a problem. Your fragments have grown together nicely and are of the proper density. For Jeff, on the other hand… Perhaps in future.”

Shepard walked about in a circle, grinning. She resisted the urge to bounce in place - weeks of pent-up energy threatened to spill out all at once. Chakwas seemed to sense this, and crossed her arms.

“Careful, please, or you’ll put yourself back on those crutches. Now! Off you go!” she said with a laugh, both her arms raised in a shooing motion before she sat down at her desk.

“You don’t have to tell me twice!” Shepard replied. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Commander. It is good to see you smiling.”

The Mess didn’t look so daunting to navigate anymore. The halls didn’t feel so long. She wanted to pirouette across the room, but instead restrained herself to just striding boldly towards the elevator. When she got inside and the doors closed, she allowed herself a private, joyful laugh. Everything looked a little brighter, felt a little easier. Even thinking of all the paperwork to collate later, all the reports to read and sign off on; nothing could bust her mood. She felt amazing. She felt bulletproof. She felt like… she had to check her email, for a dose of reality if nothing else.

“Commander!” Kelly chirped at the sight of her. Shepard smiled, offering a friendly wave as she stepped out onto the CIC. “Ooh, no creaky old crutches!” Kelly said, her infectious enthusiasm making Shepard unable to resist an affectionate patting of her shoulder.

“Yes, indeed. On two legs again, at last.” She opened her inbox and did a double-take.  _ A message from Samara? She never makes requests… It must be important. _ Just as quickly as she arrived, she spun on her heel and left - a fact that gave her no end of thrills as she walked off.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“I need to talk with you about my daughter.” Samara turned away from the backdrop of stars to face Shepard, her expression a mask of calm. Shepard felt herself stiffen with slight surprise, but disguised it as best she could herself by crossing her arms and leaning against the wall as she listened. Shepard did not like what she was hearing. Samara’s reasons for her vows became all too clear with the tale she wove. In a moment of silence, she joined Samara in looking out the window and contemplated the justicar’s request.

“So… I’m bait?” she asked at last.

She must have looked concerned, as Shepard read sympathy in Samara’s large, ice-blue eyes. “That is more or less what I am asking of you, Shepard. You will be completely safe. At no time will you truly be alone with her.”

Shepard hesitated as she looked in Samara’s eyes. If she was honest with herself, she wanted to decline. Somehow, this plan didn’t sit right; it sparked a kind of self-consciousness within Shepard that she wasn’t used to feeling. But, looking in this woman’s eyes, she found herself unable to refuse.

“I’ll have Joker set a course set for Omega.”

“Thank you, Shepard. This is not something I easily speak of. I am honoured to know that you will assist me in this matter.”

Shepard felt her lips tighten with unease.  _ I’m not sure about this. Unarmed? Lure an asari into bringing me back to her apartment? _

“Omega’s not far from here. Just a few hours at most,” she mused, staring at the floor.

Samara nodded in response, still looking out at the stars. “Yes. Our position is most fortunate. I have been on Morinth’s trail for centuries. It is of great importance to me that I catch her whilst she is still on Omega, before her trail goes cold.”

Shepard looked to the floor; a torrent of sadness threatening to surface. Here was a mother, a figure Shepard had never had - having to hunt down her own daughter. For a few seconds, she wondered what it could have been like to grow up with a mother she could remember. There were no pictures in her mind of her own mother’s face, only vague feelings.  _ If she were here, would we be close, or at odds?  _ She wondered.  _ Would she be proud of me? _

Shepard looked at Samara and imagined her younger, happier, with a baby at her breast. She painted a mental picture of what the asari must have looked like, teaching her beautiful blue little girl how to walk and talk. What terrible conviction it must have taken to make Samara devote her life so completely to killing her own child. Shepard sighed. She didn’t know the first thing about being a mother; she never had one long enough to learn from. “I… should go and make some preparations.” As Shepard turned to go, she heard Samara create a small mass effect field in her hands and the sharp smell of ozone followed her out the door. 

As ever, that scent held a memory and she saw Kaidan as he was before, standing in a dimly lit corridor. She passed by and turned to look at him. A flicker of blue light darted from his bicep to his wrist. She shivered, remembering the feeling of his hands stroking down her sides. That blue glow shimmered around him then - and around  _ her  _ as he made love to her. She blinked several times to clear her head as she rounded the corner. The memory was vivid, but all those hot, painful twinges in her chest that, up until now, accompanied all her thoughts of him since Horizon were nowhere to be found. Instead, the pain was gone, replaced by a calm, warm feeling of affection.  _ That was the way things were. It’s not the way they are now. I miss him, and I always will, but that has its place, now.  _ These echoes of their love faded from her mind, replaced by thoughts of Omega and what to expect from Samara’s haywire offspring.

_ Unarmed and lame. Some time to be going out on the dance floor,  _ she thought to herself.  _ Not that there’s ever a good time for  _ _ me  _ _ to go out on the dance floor. I don’t know what I was thinking. I dance like a herniated moose.  _ Her gut churned at the thought of returning to the Afterlife club with such a purpose. Sure, seducing an ancient sex murderer armed with nothing but her drunken bovine dancing skills was part of the job description, but the impersonality of it all was cold comfort. The idea of using her body to manipulate someone in such a way made her feel a little queasy, even if it was to save lives. Standing at the galactic map, she confirmed her selection and waited to see the indicator turn green, denoting Joker’s receipt of the new orders. Her eyes flicked up from the swirling holographic galaxy to look ahead in his direction.  _ I feel… dirty about this, somehow. Guilty. This is different from the usual bullets and blood. My decisions about my work are my own… I don’t  _ _ need  _ _ to answer to anybody but myself. _

As she neared the cockpit and the familiar glow of the many displays came into view, she heard soft humming from up ahead. Catfooted from a young age, Shepard made a habit of alerting others when she approached, to be courteous. But this time, she paused and leaned against the entrance a moment, trying to place the tune.  _ I know it from  _ _ somewhere _ _ ,  _ she thought.  _ It’s  _ _ so  _ _ familiar…  _ _ Ancient _ _ , too… Siddig al… Sam… No. Sin After. Sin Aftra. Sin Aftra, I’m  _ _ sure  _ _ that’s it. Something about skin? Ah, nevermind, I can’t remember. _ She folded her arms and listened. He was no crooner, but he could carry a tune well enough. The cockpit was a peaceful place to be, most of the time. Shepard was partial to the view outside and the arrays of displays and blinking dials. Everything on Joker’s screens had analogue equivalents somewhere on the walls and ceiling, and Shepard knew most of them herself. However, the shuttles, small craft and freighters she’d flown were nothing like the Normandy. She watched with some interest as he flicked through menus in a practised, precise way.  _ It’s a shame to disturb him, _ she thought.  _ He’s so in his element here. _ Still, she cleared her throat loudly.

“Ah!” He exclaimed in surprise. “Hey, Commander. Ugh. Must be losing my edge.” She uncrossed her arms and stepped forward to take her usual spot behind his chair. He looked up at her and grinned. “Hey now, look at you! You know, I missed having you there. I would make some kinda crack about it, but, really… I have.”

“Well, I’ve missed being here. There’s a great view,” she said as she briefly looked down into his eyes. “And, I think I envy you a little sometimes,” she said as she looked at the wisps of mass effect parting over the helm’s view. “I wish  _ I _ could fly her, you know?”

“Sit in the co-pilot's seat sometime if you really wanna try, I guess? I’ll make sure you don’t run us into any planets,” he said with a shrug.

“Surrendering control of the Normandy,  _ your baby _ , to some gun-toting out-of-practise cadet? Who are you, and what have you done with Joker?”

“Pfft, helm controls can override anything the co-pilot does. It’s like itty-bitty training wheels. Anyway, not long to Omega now. Seems like we’ve been there a lot. I dunno what you see in that place… uh, besides all the dancers in that Afterlife club, of course.”

“Funny you should mention that,” she said. “How long have we got?”

“Only about three hours, actually. Interstellar wind’ll give or take a few minutes,” he replied. “Why, you need to get there faster?”

“No. But I do need to talk with you a moment.” She tapped her finger on his headrest and gave him a smile she knew to be a little uneasy. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Uh, sure, I’ll be in the Mess later.” 

“It can’t wait. It’s about the mission.”

“Oh. Yeah, I haven’t got the brief just yet. You gonna literally blow the roof off that club, or are you going somewhere else on that rock this time?” He asked. Shepard’s eyes flicked to the comms panel. He followed her gaze. Catching on, he opened a dialogue on his display and tapped several commands into it. A light on the comm panel went out. “Miranda’s been getting  _ really  _ quick at catching on with that little trick so we’ve probably only got a minute or two at most. What’s up?”

“It’s just that I figure you wouldn’t want  _ her  _ listening in on this. You… ah. You aren’t the jealous type, are you?”

“Uhhh,” he said, and dropped his head back onto the seat’s headrest, eyes wide with surprise. “Well  _ this  _ isn’t the kind of serious conversation I expected.”

“I’d have waited until after if I could. It’s relevant.”

“Why? You, uh… you got one those asari dancers waiting down there or something?” he asked and cleared his throat before offering a lop-sided, uncertain grin. “Because, uh, if  _ that’s  _ the case, then… absolutely not, no. No, as long as there are pictures. Incredibly detailed pictures. Like,  _ holo-level. _ ”

The smile she flashed faded quickly. “I’m going in alone and unarmed. As bait,” she explained. He shifted in his chair.

“Bait? For what?” he asked, all humour evaporated from his voice. She could tell when he was trying to play it cool. He looked worried - he had a certain way of setting his jaw.

“Samara’s daughter. She’s… a kind of succubus, I guess. When she mates, she kills, and she does that  _ a lot. _ It’s important to Samara that she gets closure on this thing. So, in order to do this, I have to get her to invite me back to her apartment,” she explained. Just putting words to it made Shepard slide her gaze off to the side awkwardly. “There are certain…  _ methods  _ I’ll have to employ to make that happen, and… I wanted to let you know.”

“Yep,” he said and adjusted his cap. “Okay. Sounds good to me.”

“I’m not happy about it,” she added.

“Bailie. It’s part of the mission. I get it,” he said. His smile was disarming, as was the shrug of his shoulders. “Don’t worry about that. Worry about what you’re gonna wear to use your  _ feminine wiles _ or whatever.”

She was caught off guard.  _ Is that…? Was that the first time he’s used my name? _

“I always wondered about that,” he continued, and pointed at the comm panel light, which had flicked back on. “How come it’s ‘ _ feminine wiles’  _ with a plural? Like how many wiles do you have? Can someone have only one wile?”

“You’ve  _ definitely  _ only got one wile,” she said. “And that’s on a good day.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll remember that the next time you order an orbital strike. Don’t let her suck your brains out or whatever creepy sex vampire shit she does, alright?”

She placed her hand on his shoulder before she turned to go. “I’ll do my best to keep them in my skull.”

“Yeah. Don’t forget,” he said. When she looked back, he mouthed, “ _ pictures _ .”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


__ Omega seemed bigger, grittier, and somehow greyer than ever and as Shepard approached the Afterlife club with Samara close behind, she felt her resolve waver.  _ What even is this thing I’m wearing?  _ She looked down at herself for the third time in five minutes.  _ It’s like a… burlap sack with straps. Was this really the best choice? Where did Kelly even  _ _ find _ _ this?  _ The heavy bass spilling out of the club reverberated through her leg, the stinging pain serving as an unpleasant reminder of her vulnerability.  _ As if no armour and no guns wasn’t bad enough.  _ She took in a deep breath as they drew nearer, trying to shove the grainy images of Morinth’s most recent victim out of her mind. Samara signalled for them to stop a short distance off from the turian bouncer. His eyes passed over them almost as if they were not there. 

Shepard touched her neck with her fingertips in a nervous tic. “I’m only armed with a password here. This isn’t what I’m used to,” she confessed.

“I will be watching from the shadows, Shepard. You will not be left alone with her.”

“Yes… I know,” she replied, finding it inside her to at least sound resolute as she straightened up. “Let’s get this done.”

“You know what to do. Remember, do not get too personal with Morinth. Do not talk about feelings or family. Stick with interests.”

“Right. Let’s go.” Shepard turned and walked out of the shadows, swaying her hips as she approached the bouncer. “Hey. A friend tells me  _ this  _ is where it’s really at.”

“Sounds like a smart friend. What’s their name?”

“Jaruut,” she replied, shooting him her best doe-eyed look.

“Huh. He seems to be sending over a lot of you short human types lately. Go on in,” he said and tossed his head as he stepped aside. She winked at him, and then stepped into a world of noise.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Joker’s fingers drummed on the side of his console, his eyes glued to the security cam feed. The placement wasn’t ideal; Shepard and some asari dressed all in black - he could only assume it was this Morinth person - were  _ just  _ visible in the upper left corner. The two were next to each other at a table and he watched as her black-clad hand trailed down the side of Shepard’s face. Morinth’s posture was inviting and yet menacing, like a spider waiting for the right moment to sting her entangled prey. As her fingers drifted down the side of Shepard’s arm, Joker felt the little hairs on the back of his neck all stand up. The whole thing felt wrong. She whispered something he didn’t quite catch into Shepard’s ear, who snickered as if laughing at a dirty joke and bent under the asari’s touch, allowing her to slide in a little closer, almost between her legs. He frowned, a sharp pang of jealousy welling up inside him as he looked at the way Morinth had one arm around Shepard. Her fingertips dug possessively into Shepard’s thigh. He clenched his teeth.

That was how  _ he _ wanted to hold her; to stroke and touch her. It wasn’t fair of him, he knew, but that didn’t stop his blood boiling as he watched Morinth make Shepard react. That was how  _ he  _ wanted to try to make her feel. He couldn’t look away.  _ Stop being a dumbass, _ he chided himself.  _ She doesn’t  _ _ want  _ _ to be doing this. It’s not even  _ _ close  _ _ to the same thing.  _ However, as he watched Shepard’s back arch under the asari’s hands and heard her breath quicken over the audio feed, all the reason and sense in the galaxy did nothing to stop the ache of his longing. His desire for her to be, in some small and poetic way,  _ his… _ and maybe even a little bit  _ his alone _ . 

_ “What’s this?” _ he heard the hateful asari ask over the feed.  _ “What are you playing with?” _ Morinth smiled and grabbed Shepard’s hand as she fiddled with something in her pocket. “ _ That looks like a Hallex wrapper to me.” _

_ “It might be,”  _ came Shepard’s coy reply.

_“You’re the most interesting person in this place. I knew it the moment I saw you,”_ Morinth said and smiled in her dreadful way as she plucked a piece of silver foil from Shepard’s hand. The asari frowned at it. _“None left for me?”_ she asked in a sing-song tease. Shepard took it back from her fingers just to give it a cavalier toss onto the table.

_ “Mmm, nope, all gone,” _ she replied with a kind of girlish giggle that Joker found bizarre coming out of her. 

_ “I want to be alone with you. I want you,” _ Morinth said as she tickled under Shepard’s chin. It was a little perverse, but he found himself wishing he had Morinth’s confidence. Anything she said, she followed up on; every touch had a corresponding escalation. He hated the alluring way she cocked her hip as she beckoned for Shepard to follow. In a sense, he hated  _ even more _ that Shepard responded with a coquettish tilt of her head, intrigue written plain across her face. It looked very genuine. An unpleasant feeling slithered around inside him. She looked so beautiful like that, looking at  _ someone else _ , with her hands all over  _ someone else _ , and that actually kind of hurt in a way he had not anticipated. He watched Shepard pause, waiting for the asari to get a few steps ahead before she snatched up the foil she dropped before.

It was difficult to see at first, but when he looked a little closer as she picked it up, he could just make out the foil was bird shaped. Shepard must have been keeping that dumb little crane he made for her in her pockets… His finger hurt. Joker realised he had been biting his knuckle and rubbed at the red indentations his own teeth had left in his skin.  _ Ow, shit. _

  
  


* * *

  
  


The view from the apartment window was the kind only a  _ lot _ of credits could afford, especially on Omega. The furnishings that decorated the place were trophies, that much was immediately obvious. The sight of them chilled Shepard to the bone. Her living space was little more than a bright graveyard, full of meticulously clean headstones. She had to try hard to suppress her disgust at Morinth’s vague comments about each item as she passed by. The game of cat and mouse was plain as day.  _ Perhaps it wouldn’t be so obvious if I was under her spell. _ Being under her spell was hard to resist, as well. Morinth was beautiful; alluring in both appearance and manner. Even her scent was attractive. Clean and spicy with a hint of something else that set her heart racing and directed her mind to baser desires. Looking over her shoulder, Shepard saw the asari draped across the couch, stroking one hand up and down her thigh in a way that captured her attention. Her violet-lipped smile was soft and inviting. She radiated a warmth that tugged at Shepard, drawing her closer even despite wanting to stay rooted to the spot.  _ She’ll get suspicious if I don’t look like I’m into being here. _

“I’m so glad we’re alone,” Shepard purred.  _ Where the fuck is Samara? _

“Yes,” answered Morinth, her black, strappy catsuit glinting like something in the shadows of a rain soaked street. “So much better away from prying eyes.”

Shepard swayed her hips as she walked to the couch and seated herself down. Giving Morinth something of a vacant stare, she did her best to appear consumed by her unwitting adversary’s beauty. The trick appeared to work, as she felt fingertips pulling at her wrists. The little touch was exciting, and she found herself running her fingers down one of the asari’s thick, ridged crests. She had never touched an asari before. The blue skin was pebbled with many fine scales, and despite herself she became fascinated by the texture. It was pleasant to run her fingers over. Morinth’s hands slid around her shoulders and Shepard felt her back hit the couch cushions. Full lips brushed down her neck. It felt good;  _ too  _ good. Shepard couldn’t help but give in, and it took concentration to squeeze her eyes shut, will herself to focus. Focus, and ignore the way Morinth’s velvet touch eased between her legs and stroked up the insides of her trembling thighs, even though it felt good to part her knees just a little for her. How nice her lithe curves felt under her palms. How she could feel Morinth’s hips with her thumbs and the heat of her firm body through those form-fitting clothes.

“Look at me,” she whispered breathlessly. Shepard swallowed.  _ Fuck. _ Morinth’s fingers on her cheek directed her gaze. Their noses touched. “Your eyes… So bright, so clear.”

Shepard drew in a breath filled with the delicate, sweet scent that surrounded the asari poised above her like a viper. Morinth’s eyes were so dark, so… empty. She thrust one hand into her own jacket pocket, fingers seeking the little foil bird; its texture something else to focus on, to keep herself from slipping away. At first, she held onto the image of what it felt like to be sat on that Citadel bench in a moment of peace. But the image corroded, blurred like a photograph printed on wet paper. Her thoughts clouded over.  _ Wait, no, wait.  _ Her internal voice was so far away somehow. She thought about the bird. Or tried to? It was hard to think. The bird meant something very important. Shepard felt heavy all over, her muscles loosening as she stared up at Morinth through a haze. The bird meant…  _ something _ . But so did those eyes. Maybe Morinth’s eyes, as black as cut onyx, were all that mattered. 

“Look at me,” said the owner of those black, black eyes, and each word was like being kissed until breathless. She could do nothing but comply. 

Something wasn’t right. Instead of everything about her pulsing with pleasure like Morinth’s words promised, she was going numb. Cold nothingness crept up her body, almost as if she was being sucked out of her own skin. She heard screaming. So many  _ screams _ . Soft at first, but the voices rose to a cacophony; a hideous wail of grief and rage thousands strong. Shepard struggled, but was held fast. She could feel Morinth’s mind where it wasn’t supposed to be; poking, prying,  _ invading _ . Shepard burned with the urge to scream. With horror, she realised - she  _ knew  _ that to scream was to die.

“F-Fuck… you…” She managed. Morinth’s presence pulled back, surprised. In that same instant, the door to the apartment flew open to reveal Samara, her weapon drawn.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The coffee machine was out. Again. The damn coffee machine was  _ always  _ out. Joker sighed. As he poked around in the cupboard for a fresh packet of ground beans, he noticed as the ambient lighting brightened up and he squinted.  _ Morning at last, _ he thought. He glanced toward the elevator as he tore the packet open and fussed with the machine.  _ How long has it been now? _ Long enough. He’d expected her to have come to see him, or be in the Mess, but she never showed. Last night had been spent flipping from one side to the other until he gave up and came to the Mess for coffee and a distraction if there was one to be had. As it was, frames from the mission’s monochromatic vid feed floated through his head so often they ought to start paying rent. He made his way over to the counter to get some food. Gardner offered him a plate of… something, he didn’t really look. He all but snatched it from the cook’s hand, mumbling his thanks when he turned to leave.

“The words are ‘ _ thank you _ ,’ Moreau,” Gardner called after him, annoyed. 

“Yeah,” he replied, on auto-pilot.

“ _ Damn thirty-year old kids, raised in a barn _ .”

Joker looked at the time on his Omnitool and took a bite out of what turned out to be toast. Other crew members drifted in. People got breakfast and settled into the rhythm of a new day. He caught sight of Garrus and Tali sitting together and peered at them over the rim of his mug. They were too quiet to be eavesdropped on, but he watched them anyway as he sipped. After a moment or two of involved conversation, Tali placed her hand on Garrus’. The turian startled at this gesture and cast a furtive look around. In doing so, he met Joker’s eyes, the mug still at his lips. Without missing a beat, Joker lifted his hand and gestured from his eyes, which he narrowed, and back towards them.

“Oh, Keelah, like  _ you  _ have any place to talk,” the quarian said with a dismissive wave. He snickered into his coffee and finished it off. Teasing them felt good. Lining up the food on his plate, he resolved to think about the disappointing fried tomatoes rather than anything else.

“You’re up early,” chirped Kelly from just behind him.

“ _ Oh _ ,” he said.

“ _ ‘Oh?’ _ What kind of greeting is that? Good morning!” she said. Kelly’s nose got a little wrinkle when she gave playful smiles. It was endearing, kind of cute, and  _ done too often. _ “You usually only ever roll out of bed ten minutes before your shift.” 

Kelly made as if to sit down across from him, so he pulled his tray closer to make room. “Mm, well. Sleep’s for the weak,” he said as he popped a tomato into his mouth.

“Are you alright?”

“Never better. I am strong like bull, smart like spaceship.”

“Is that… code for something?” she asked.

“Sometimes I forget that no one else watches the old broadcast signals we get.” He yawned. “Speakin’ of, I’m gonna go see if there’s any on.”

“You’re not on shift for another half hour. Why don’cha stay and talk?” she asked. “Ooh, did you read the debrief yet? I had no idea that’s what it’s like to get attacked by an Ardat-Yakshi!”

“I don’t  _ have  _ to be up there. I  _ like  _ to be up there,” he said and shrugged. “And no, I haven’t read Shepard’s latest airport thriller yet.”

“Hmm, maybe you shouldn’t. It’s scary stuff. Alright! Have a good shift,” she waved at him as he left.

People didn’t make Joker feel better, usually. The feeling of familiarity and belonging he got with every step closer to his seat did. It never got old, no matter how many times he passed under the canopy of buttons and dials. That kid Harrison turned the chair around.

“Hey, Joker,” he said through a yawn. “You’re early?”

“Yeah. Go and head off. I’ll have her a few minutes early today. Go get some toast, or whatever it is you do with your life.”

“Sir,” he said and vacated the chair.

“And don’t call me  _ ‘Sir,’ _ I’m not old enough to be a  _ ‘Sir’  _ in this context.”

Joker lowered himself into his seat. He tapped in the necessary details for shift change and leaned back to look outside for a moment. The Normandy was his again. To him, it felt like sliding into a warm bath on a cold, wet day. His euphoria did not last however, as with a keystroke he opened the task register and frowned.  _ I forgot it was Maintenance Reports day today.  _ He opened the first of many attachments and filled out spreadsheet after spreadsheet with data. After the fourth, or fifth, maybe eighth or possibly twelfth multi-paged monstrosity, he looked out the window again.  _ How long has it been? _ He allowed himself a peek at the clock.  _ Disgusting. Two hours. _

He stared at the spot on his right-hand display where course corrections appeared and willed something to happen to it. Typically, course corrections arrived in some fashion within just a few hours of the mission debrief, but the dialogue sat blank.  _ Ugh. That’s right, the mission debrief, _ he thought, and drummed his fingers on the console. It was either read that, do the rest of the reports, or procrastinate by reading armchair philosophers on the extranet. One of his favourite haunts had some advertisement with an asari dressed in black. He looked off to the side and reopened the maintenance reports in a vain attempt to escape his own brain. As he allocated time frames for tasks, every few rows he stopped to push away the vid feed images that kept resurfacing.

_ This is not the time.  _ He pushed back his cap and scratched his head with frustration.  _ Dammit, I don’t like this. This is  _ _ affecting my job _ _. This is  _ _ exactly  _ _ what I was afraid of and part of why I never approached her back on the SR1. _ He looked out to the hallway behind him. Of course, no one was there. Shepard certainly wasn’t there, but he found himself looking down towards the CIC, just in case. The course correction dialogue sat empty, still.  _ I didn’t wanna have to deal with feelings like this… I know I get fixated on stuff… and it’s really, really easy for me to fixate on her. Maybe all this isn’t a good idea. _ Filling out another time block, he let out a heavy sigh.  _ There are more important things I should be concentrating on. Like flying this ship. Like finishing these stupid reports. Like anything else… but…  _ His eyes felt scratchy and the image of the Equivalent Airspeed display was burned into his eyes. Realising he had been staring at its nonsensical numbers for several moments, he rubbed at his eyes.

He imagined telling Shepard, his… What the hell even  _ was  _ she? Closest and best friend? He’d die for her and he knew it.  _ Whatever  _ she was… to just keep it professional. He imagined trying to cram whatever this emotion was back into its bottle he’d kept it in for so long. She would pull back inside herself around him and go by the book. A curt nod in the corridor. A conversation about the goddamn weather. No more reason for her to come to the cockpit for ‘the view’ like she mentioned. No more beers after shift. Definitely no more looking so far into those beautiful eyes. Absolutely none of that complete peace when he held her, or those sweet seconds where they kissed and he could  _ swear  _ their hearts were in sync. Forget those dreams of sharing himself with her, or of trying to make it up to her that he caused her death once, forgiveness aside. All those things filled him full of longing; stealing his focus. Making him worse at his job. Making him not be the  _ best _ , which she deserved. Maybe…  _ after  _ the war?

He needed to focus.  _ This is just like back at the academy, _ he thought darkly.  _ I don’t have room in my head for two things as big as this at once. The mission is what’s important. I can’t afford to be hung up like this with so much riding on both of us. She’d agree… I gotta talk to her. _

* * *

  
  


Shepard scrubbed her whole body over for the fourth time. Her skin was red raw under the hot spray. Steam swirled around her toes and she sighed, replacing the soap. The creak of the water turning off was loud, and as she watched droplets fall from the showerhead, she touched a hand to her throbbing temple.  _ I  _ _ still  _ _ feel dirty. _ Her disgust was like a slime she just couldn’t get rid of. She wiped the mirror with her hand and stared into her reflection. Could there have been another way?

Samara had made it sound as if it was the only way.  _ Maybe it was just the  _ _ easiest  _ _ way. If I’d stopped to think before just agreeing… maybe I’d have thought of something.  _ Even as the words came to mind, she shook her head.  _ Time  _ _ was  _ _ of the essence. Who knows when Morinth would have moved on?  _ All of those hellish screams came floating up to the back of her mind. She shuddered, remembering the need to join them.  _ It doesn’t matter that I feel… violated? Samara asked for my help. I had to help. So I helped. Just…  _

Her knuckles whitened around the sink’s rim. She couldn’t lie to herself; Morinth’s touch, her  _ desire _ felt good, and knowing that felt disgusting. Repulsive, even. Morinth was a  _ serial killer _ . She ran her hand over her head as she looked at her reflection, narrowing her eyes in distaste at how long her hair had grown out. She reached for her clippers. As she watched the tiny pieces fall into the sink, she replayed the scene in her mind over and over like a reel of film. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to scrub again… The water was still hot.  _ I don’t have to justify myself like this. Sex as a weapon is sometimes useful.  _ Little bits of her dark hair swirled down the drain.  _ This was the way it was supposed to play out. I was informed… even Joker was informed of the things I might need to do. _ She dried herself off and reached for her clothing, slipping a white undershirt and jacket on over her shoulders. Her fingers paused on the collar’s buttons.  _ I’m in the right here. He even said not to worry, didn’t he? He understands. I’m overreacting. It was upsetting, but I’m overreacting. _

Shepard sat at her desk, and scrolled through the end of day reports. Things were going well. Every nut, bolt and paint chip well accounted for. Still some work to do, but most of the crew had put their personal issues behind them. _ Take the krogan for a walk. Stop the dad from murdering his crew. Demolitions with Jack. Save salarian students.  _ She picked up her bottle of pills, nearly empty. Her leg was healing up nicely. It would have scars, of course and there were a couple of odd indents in the muscle, but it felt so good to walk without those rickety crutches anymore. She felt more like herself, being more in control of her body - doing push ups before her shower was a snap.

A chime came from behind her and she looked up from her emails.  _ Odd. I didn’t arrange for  _ \- it rang a second time.

“I’m coming,” she said, and tugged sharply on her jacket as she stood up, folding her arms behind her back as she stepped towards the door. It parted to reveal Joker, standing with his arms crossed, eyes just hidden beneath the brim of his cap. “Ah, I should have known,” she said.

“Commander.”

“Uh,” she said. “Flight Lieutenant.” She stood back. He hesitated, then stepped through. Stopped just a few feet away from the door and leaned against the wall. She stiffened.  _ It was Bailie, earlier. Now it’s Commander. _ “Do you want to sit down?”

“I’m alright standing. I’ve been sitting down all day.”

“Okay,” she said. Dread sucked all the heat from her hands. She didn’t know what to say. She felt stupid and fumbling. “I’m listening.”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you, ah… is this about what happened down on Omega?” she asked and willed herself to look calm. The ominous feeling in the air was like what she felt, time and again as a young girl, just before every conversation with yet another foster family right before they kicked her to the kerb. It was the same ugly feeling she got at eighteen, when her Flight Instructor told her over his shoulder not to wait for his calls anymore.  _ It’s not okay. It’s not okay and he is about to leave _ .

“I get what had to be done,” he said. When he looked up from the floor, his eyes were dark in a way she’d never seen before. “You just, I dunno. You seemed pretty into it. Guess I didn’t expect that, or something.”

“I had to look the part,” she said, but there was no power in her defense.

“Yeah, I  _ know  _ you did. You just seemed real eager to have your hands _ all over _ her. I saw it on the feeds.”

“I didn’t-”

“You  _ did _ ,” he snapped, and the look he shot her stung. He tucked his arms up tighter to his chest. He had  _ never  _ interrupted her before, and Shepard blinked, taking a second to digest this. Joker was  _ always  _ on her side - this was new.

“I was  _ going to say _ , I didn’t want to be there. You know that. If you were watching the feeds, then you know what we found out about her latest victim. I did what I thought I had to do,” she said, fighting to control the desperation she felt inside of her, coiled at the back of her throat as if it was an animal threatening to leap out. Shepard wanted to scream in frustration. She just wanted to  _ be understood. _ “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t… Yeah, don’t apologise. Look, I’ve been thinking about this whole  _ you and me _ thing all damn day and I dunno what to do about it.” He uncrossed his arms, letting them drop to his sides. Shepard wilted inside. “I can’t think about  _ anything else, _ ” he continued. “It’s driving me crazy. I can’t focus. You know EDI didn’t say a word to me all day? Even  _ it  _ knew. Man, when even _ the AI _ walks on eggshells around you, you  _ know  _ you’re pissed off.”

Shepard looked off to the side, an unpleasant heat creeping up the back of her neck. “In my whole career, I’ve never had to do something like that. I don’t… I didn’t want… It… goes against how I operate.”

“Oh yeah? You seemed to  _ operate  _ just fine to me,” he snipped, too quickly for there to have been any thought behind it. His comment took a chink out of her armour.  _ He really knows how to alienate people when he wants to. _

Shepard couldn’t escape the feeling that she had been here before. Not in this  _ exact  _ conversation, but in another, trying to convince someone else she was very fond of. On Horizon, she had bitten her tongue. She wouldn’t now. “You can’t possibly understand what that was like for me.” Her voice wavered. “Someone came to me and said, ‘the only way you can save a lot of people is if you help me. And the only way you can help me is if you let this person  _ use you _ .’” She stared at the floor. “What was I supposed to say?  _ No _ ? That the principles I have about my body are more important than  _ that _ ?”

“Y-No.” He shifted his weight and shook his head. “I dunno,” he said quietly.

“No, you’re right. You  _ don’t  _ know,” Shepard snapped. She took a deep breath to steady herself. “That was unfair of me.” She tried to visualise herself as a cool, calm river, carrying the anger away. “Okay. I need you to understand that you’re being unreasonable. I told you what I needed to do before this even happened.”

“I know you did,” he shot back, but the edge was gone from his voice.

“You said you understood. You told me _ not to worry _ .”

“ … I know I did.”

“So, why don’t you understand?” she asked, exasperation creeping into her voice as she spoke. Her hands fell from behind her back, against her sides. She saw him looking towards the door, and sighed. She closed her eyes in defeat and said, “I stand by what I said before… Your life will not get weirder or more difficult if you want to walk out that door.”

His eyes met hers briefly before he looked back at the wall. “You can’t promise me my life won’t get weirder or more difficult. That’s just kinda what happens around here. It’s gonna get weirder and more difficult no matter  _ what  _ I do.” He pushed off from the wall. “If it helps, that’s not what I’m thinking, though.”

“You’re… not?” she asked. Shepard lost all her words except for a questioning noise as she put her hand to her lips. She could feel the corner of her desk pressing into her leg. The desk that had Kaidan’s picture in it.

“No. Um. I think actually… we  _ should  _ sit down.”

She walked down the steps toward the couch. “Gladly.”

As he followed her she saw him stop at the desk. He picked up the crushed foil crane she had left beside her terminal.

“It was in my hand when Morinth attacked,” she said and sat down.

“It’s got… I’m guessing this is  _ your  _ blood on it?”

Shepard smiled ruefully as she held up her hand to show him cuts in her palm. “That’s what I get for wearing nail extensions,” she said. His expression softened as he placed it back on the desk and came to join her. After a moment, he slid his cap off, looking down at it and fiddling with the fabric.

“Hey, it’s not that I don’t understand,” he said. “I’m not  _ stupid _ . I thought, you know… I’d kinda enjoy seeing something like that? Instead though it just made me want to peel the tentacles off her head one by one.”

“Believe me,  _ I  _ wanted to peel the tentacles off her head one by one,” she said as she met his eyes. He didn’t look angry at all anymore; only hesitant.

“It’s like this…” he said, his gaze sliding down to the table. “Nobody owns you… I mean I’m sure Cerberus disagrees, but uh, that’s not the point,” he said as he continued to fiddle with the cap in his hands. “I guess I feel weird because in a way, I -” 

EDI’s spherical image materialised near the fish tank. “Commander, you have an incoming Priority Zero communication.”

Joker let out a frustrated sigh. Shepard put her hand to her face in silence.

“Tell him to wait two minutes,” Shepard replied, bristling.

“Yeah, tell him she’s in the shower or something.”

“I am under explicit instructions to relay coordinates directly to the helm and ensure that you act to receive this communication immediately,” said EDI. Its central line flared. “Mr Moreau, please relieve the temporary pilot and assume the helm.”

“Yeah, _ hi EDI, _ ” he grumbled.

“Hello. Please assume the helm immediately.” The sphere disappeared.


	12. Derelict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The waiting is the hardest part" isn't just a Tom Petty lyric as it turns out.  
> Old enemies, new solutions, better outcomes.

_ “Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone _

_ It’s not warm when she’s away _

_ Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone _

_ And she’s always gone too long _

_ Anytime she goes away” _

_ Bill Withers, Ain’t No Sunshine _

Four minutes later, he was in his seat again and looking over the telemetry data. Turning a ship into an about face in FTL was no small task even with AI assistance. He could feel the Normandy shudder and strain against almost incalculable shearing forces as he eased her into the manoeuvre, sliding up and rolling around, using the gravity of a star nearby as a slingshot. She was one of the only ships capable of completing a U-Turn without dropping to sublight first - but  _ capable  _ didn’t also mean  _ advisable _ . Still, he knew when to smooth out the arc of her turn, when she could handle more and when she needed less. EDI took care of minute compensations as he inched her through the delicate procedure.

As the vector aligned, he heard footsteps clicking their way up to the cockpit. Shepard stood a few paces behind his chair, her sleek black and green armour polished to a fine gloss, helmet tucked between her hip and elbow. It was the first time he’d seen her in armour since her injury and his eyes fell to the newly replaced calf section. She still favoured the leg a little, he could tell. Shepard’s gloved fingers curled around the top of his headrest.

“How long until we get there?” she asked as she stared ahead, out at the stars. Her voice exuded control and authority.

“Not long. Twenty minutes. I didn’t lose us any momentum on the turn.” 

“Good. They say it was disabled by a turian patrol.” 

_ Maybe there’s something to be said for the krogan approach to racy calendars,  _ he thought as he took another look at her _.  _ The sight of her ready to go down on a mission filled him with fire; a kind of fierce hope and unshakable confidence. As he looked at her in that moment, he felt steadfast faith swell in his chest.

“Must be some patrol. Well, we’re prepared for whatever happens,” he said with a nod. She lingered over his shoulder a moment. Over the time he’d spent under her command, Joker learned to read her well. She shook out her leg. She reached up and touched the bridge of her nose at that spot where some of the old scar still peeked through and traced its path down her cheek in a slow, deliberate way - a clear tell.  _ She’s nervous. She doesn’t think she’s ready. _ His stomach clenched with the visceral understanding that this first time back in armour might also be her  _ last  _ time. What if he just spent his last minutes alone with her arguing about  _ nothing _ ? 

He wanted to say something meaningful, to tell her how important she was to him, but as usual, what came out of his mouth was something different. “Hey, you already picked out your toys for today?” Her hand came down to rest on his shoulder. He resisted the urge to reach up and keep it there.  _ I’m sorry I was a dick,  _ he thought, but didn’t dare say it out loud.

“Yeah. Let’s hope I don’t need them.” 

“Hey,” he said and looked up at her. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

“You’ll know where to find me,” she said with a soft smile. He watched her go, headed towards the airlock, still favouring that leg. He turned his attention to the panels in front of him, burying himself in the tasks at hand to avoid paying attention to the heaviness in his chest any longer.  _ She’ll be back. _

Sixteen minutes later - he knew because he eyed the clock - the Collector’s ship came within visual range. It hung like a great tumour in space, its rocky bulk standing out as unusual. He felt something small and cold in the pit of his stomach as he continued the approach and looked out to see the hulk with his own eyes. As its mass filled his view, dread prised its way into his mind like so many skeletal fingers. It looked familiar. The ship glided past a colossal steel spire jutting out of the Collector vessel like a huge tooth.

“ _ I don’t like this, _ ” he heard Shepard mutter over the comm.  _ “This is eerie.” _ Neither Garrus nor Grunt responded. The shuttle, dwarfed by the colossal ship, looked like a tiny white breadcrumb as it fell away from the Normandy. He stared at the sensor readouts and listened for tell-tale sounds of disembarkation.

“EDI,” he said and looked toward the holographic projector. It flickered to life. “I want you to run some numbers for me.”

The results would take time, but Joker felt in his gut that he already knew the answer. He scanned the fissures in the craggy sides of the vessel.  _ This thing looks like a wasp nest, _ he thought, reminded of old nature vids from Earth. Something about its lack of consistency and uniformity bothered him and the more he looked, the more he felt certain of the tru _ th.  _ He swallowed hard as he triple-checked the emissions.  _ No… Thrusters are still cold. Weapons still offline…  _ He wrapped around the ship for another pass, searching for a trajectory that would allow him to spring into action should Shepard need out fast. As he passed by the thing’s front, he found himself staring into the yawning abyss that, according to scans, was the barrel of its weapon. The entire front of the ship spanned several cities across and acted as the condenser for a particle beam. With his spare hand he reached up and flipped the thing off. Petty, but it felt good.

Every minute of the last hour was an age. EDI's confirmation was little more than a formality to him.  _ The same ship. It’s the same one that killed us last time. _ He had nothing to do but stare at the thing and stew. Though his sensors showed nothing and displays remained static, he felt sure that the Collectors were in there skulking around. Watching, waiting; this had to be a trap. Comm chatter between Shepard and her team was calm, all things considered. The ship seemed empty; dead. And yet, as the team made their way toward the center of the enemy vessel, he found his heart in the back of his throat. He frowned, drumming his fingers against his armrest.

“Primary systems still offline,” EDI said. “Weapons still offline. I am detecting a fluctuation in the main power grid.”

“How much of a fluctuation?”

“Point zero zero zero three percent of the estimated operational output is now being consumed.”

“Great,” he muttered. “Someone’s turned on the kitchen lights.” He checked the movement sensors. Shepard and her team were taking their time, advancing through each section of the ship at a pace he could only describe as a painful crawl. Although he appreciated her caution, he wanted her to just get through the place, see what needed to be seen and get out so that… _So what? So someone ‘more qualified’ can go in? More like… so someone_ _I don’t know_ _can go in,_ he thought, with some guilt. Shepard’s breathing was slow and steady as she pressed on, a sharp contrast to the adrenaline he could feel flowing through his every vein. He wondered what she was seeing. From her occasional comments, he imagined the ship’s walls to be covered in porous gobs, oozing a thick and viscous slime. The image wasn’t pretty and as he watched her movement tracker come to a stop yet again, he couldn’t imagine what had her so captivated.

The comm crackled to life.  _ “Considering most of the atmosphere in here was vented, the temperature is  _ _ off the chart _ _ , _ ” he heard her say. She sounded fascinated.  _ “It’s like the walls are… radiating heat.” _

An old vid he’d seen as a kid came to mind. It was ancient - filmed on Earth almost two hundred and fifty years ago. The story involved marines sent to investigate a seemingly abandoned colony just to find it covered in weird, bony growths. Shining black monsters lived in the walls. The scene didn’t end well for them. His thoughts were cut short by the sound of Shepard’s gasp.

_ “My god…” _ she whispered.  _ “This place is… it’s huge.” _

_ “They could take every human in the Terminus systems and still not fill all these pods,”  _ said Garrus. After what Joker interpreted as a stunned silence, he heard grim certainty in Garrus’ voice as he added,  _ “They’re going to target Earth.” _

_ Earth, _ he thought as a cold feeling all anew settled over him. The idea hadn’t occurred to him before but now the pieces all fell into place. Surely Earth was untouchable; a bastion of safety in the shape of a garden world.  _ Colonies run into trouble and there’ve been occupations in the past, but Earth? _ The scale of such a thing was too big to imagine.

He looked up from the displays and down into the cavernous void that was the barrel of the Collectors’ monumental weapon. The machine that lay deep within was the very same that had had caused him to lie awake every night for years. Seething rage filled his entire being as he stared into it. 

Because of this  _ thing _ , he suffered constant, humiliating scrutiny before the Alliance saw fit to rip his wings off, adding insult to injury. Because of this  _ thing _ , when faced with a choice between a future where he never flew again, or one where he worked for an organisation he  _ knew  _ could be called terrorists, the decision had been so easy to make, it was embarrassing. In the wake of the Normandy’s destruction he had lived in his own personal hell for two years after he lost the woman he cared most about.  _ Yeah, well, don’t you worry, girls.  _ He patted the Normandy’s console and thought of Shepard creeping through the ship. _ I’m not asleep at the wheel this time. _

  
  


* * *

Shepard stared slack-jawed into the vast expanse inside the ship. There had to be millions of pods, each one about nine feet tall and four feet wide. They glowed, dotting the walls and ceilings in neat rows. This arrangement of pods was the only thing about the ship that looked organised. She looked at one next to her. Somewhere in this hollow hell there was a pod they intended for  _ her _ . A knot formed in her throat as she imagined one of the Collectors stuffing Joker into a pod and she gripped her rifle harder.  _ I won’t let that happen. _ “Come on. Let’s move out.”

“The ground here’s softer, like walking on loose soil,” said Garrus, kicking at the dirt. She looked back at him. She couldn’t see his expression through his opaque faceplate, but the turian tilted his head.

“Yeah. Why do you suppose that is?” she wondered aloud.

“A lot of this seems biomechanical.” He looked into the distance. “Maybe the pods are grown, rather than manufactured?” Garrus pointed ahead. “Look. A command console.” The path narrowed, leading to a circular outcropping in the centre of which stood a small pillar.

“Where is everybody?” Grunt piped up, shifting his bulk from side to side. “There aren’t even any bodies around, except that one pile of humans we saw on the way in… Where are all the Collector bodies?” He moved over to stand closer to Shepard and she looked at him with affection. She was glad to have him here. “You keep saying something is wrong,” he continued. “Should we go press buttons on that?” Without another word, she followed Garrus and touched the screen.

* * *

“Setting up a link with the Collector Vessel,” EDI said. Streams of data poured in. Joker flicked through screens, skimming information but his screens went dark. Before he could even ask, they flickered on and a single image appeared plastered across all his monitors. The weird, flared head of a Collector stared at him with its many glowing eyes as if it could see right into him.

“Uh-oh. That can’t be good.”

“System breach,” came EDI’s flat alert.

Attempt after attempt at overrides failed. Aside from life support, the only systems still functioning were the heat sensors which flared with a sea of crimson and yellow.  _ False reads? There’s way too many of them! _ It was as if they were streaming from the walls themselves, just as he envisioned earlier… Fear for Shepard’s life had him stabbing the comm button.

“Comman-”

Something on the unoccupied co-pilot’s console sparked and shot across the cockpit, hitting the far wall with a resounding clang. In the same instant the cockpit was enveloped in darkness. Even the analogues around him were dark. He leaned forward in his seat, blind.

“... EDI?” he asked, blinking in confusion. The Normandy was completely dead. No lights of any kind, no displays, no nothing. Even the secondary generator light was off. He nudged the manual backup switch underneath his left foot, felt it depress against his boot. He held his breath. Nothing.  _ Oh, this is  _ _ not  _ _ good.  _ He tapped his Omnitool, but instead of a steady glow surrounding his forearm, nothing happened. A few seconds later a small orange light appeared on the console, followed by a chain of others. Sound returned to his earpiece.

“I have successfully diverted a massive overload to non-essential systems.” For the first time, he felt grateful to hear that thing’s voice. “No areas of the ship report extensive damage or loss of personnel.”

_ “Shepard to Normandy, status report!” _ Her voice. Her  _ voice! _ There was no time to sigh in relief.

“Power surge, Commander. We were knocked out for a second but our systems are coming back online,” he explained as his eyes darted over the one tiny dialogue not filled with the image of a Collector. “Everything checks out.”

Strange whirring noises filled his ear through the comm.

_ “What’s happening!?” _ Roared Grunt. The krogan sounded confused, perhaps even panicked.

_ You and me both, man. _ Joker squinted in concentration, trying to figure out the sounds even as he worked to bring up the rest of the displays, still disabled by the mocking image of the Collector. His inability to hack into some kind of feed to get a better picture of the ground team made him feel even more cut off than usual. He ground his teeth in frustration. The whirring noise stopped, but it was followed by scuffling sounds, as if someone had been knocked off their feet.

“I am having difficulty maintaining control of the systems breach,” EDI explained, the hologram appearing at its station to his left. “There is someone else in the system.”

_ “We’ve got company!” _ Garrus shouted in alarm.

_ “Grunt, ten o’clock. Garrus, two. I’ve got noon.” _ Shepard’s voice came through strong and clear. Her armour clicked as she shifted around. Muted gunfire still made it through even with the dampener, and he could tell by the wet crunching of the impacts that whatever she was hitting had to be breathing on her it was so close. There was a dull pounding in his ears and for a moment he thought it was Shepard’s heart beating before he realised it was the sound of his own. Eventually the din stopped. Silence reigned for several seconds and his eyes flicked to one of the screens. It turned on and off briefly before displaying readouts. He leaned closer.  _ Weapons  _ readouts.

“Normandy to shore party. Respond.”

_ “Shore party,” _ she said, breathing hard.

“Uh, yeah, Shepard I don’t mean to rush you or anything but those weapons systems are coming online.”  _ Please, baby. Get out of there. _

* * *

“Through there!” she barked and gestured towards a metal door that rolled up into the ceiling with a squeal.

“They just don’t quit!” Exclaimed Garrus in disbelief as the sounds of buzzing filled their ears once again.

She slammed herself against a crumbling section of wall. Her throat was dry as she pulled back the release on her rifle, slapping in another thermal cartridge. With her target in sight, she leaned out, let loose a long breath. A bright light filled her scope and she winced, pulling away. The Collector in her crosshairs dropped to the ground and convulsed. She heard a menacing growl, the sound vibrating in her ears as if coming from within, but Shepard knew better.

“Not  _ again…  _ Grunt, take care of this one, I’ll keep the others off your ass!” A shambling husk fell to the ground, a bullet lodged in what used to be its brain. Something large and ungainly unfolded from the wall. Pointed legs stabbed into the ground and a biotic field crackled to life as the thing - whatever it was - rose up into the air. Its white eyes snapped onto hers. It bore down on her so fast she barely had time to throw herself back into cover. The crack of Garrus’ rifle rang out again and again as the thing’s forelegs flailed in the air. Somewhere far below, engines shuddered to life, vibrating the floor beneath her feet. Time was running out, but the Collector was still in the way. Shepard set her jaw. She reached over behind her head and pulled up today’s toy, reserved for problems like this.

“You’re in our way,” she snarled. Bringing the gun up to her hip as far as she could lift it, she braced herself and squeezed the trigger tight. She was never prepared for the Cain’s recoil; it felt like trying to hold onto the leg of a kicking mule but somehow she managed to hold it steady enough. It spat thick arcs of electricity in a steady rhythm. A warm thrill shot up Shepard’s spine as she watched the thing’s biotic field shatter around it. Beads of energy disintegrated like a broken necklace. It writhed in agony, helpless against the Cain’s punishment and finally it expired with a chilling, atonal scream. She didn’t stop to watch it hit the ground and hauled herself down the hallway and almost as if on cue -

_ “Commander,” _ she heard Joker say.  _ “Those weapons are  _ _ not  _ _ gonna wait for you.” _

“I know,” she replied, trying to sound calm. “I recognise this hallway, we’re not far.”

“Down there!” Grunt bellowed. “That’s where we came in!” She could see the glint of the shuttle’s metal doors and she threw herself towards them, ignoring the pain flaring up in her right leg. As she hurled herself inside and she skittered to a stop, back against the wall, she let herself lie flat.

* * *

Rattled. He was  _ rattled _ . Joker let out the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. He stared at EDI’s projection. As the adrenaline drained at last from his system, his usually steady hands shook. He took in a deep breath to reset himself and looked at the navigational array. There was a meeting going on, and he was supposed to be listening, but Joker wasn't so much  _ listening  _ as just  _ hearing _ . He knew he should be paying attention, but he kept scanning the sensor readouts over and over again, half-expecting the Collector ship to rip back into view, particle beam primed to tear them apart.

He remembered her talking in the meeting, but not much of what she said. To him, she sounded tired, but never more beautiful; she was  _ home _ ,  _ safe _ . He wasn’t sure when the meeting finished, but comms were quiet and the adrenaline shakes long ago subsided as he swept through the displays. It was strange, but EDI seemed to know that he needed quiet, her periodic input restricted to just text, scrolling off to his left. He found himself glancing at her projector dish a few times.  _ Maybe I’ve been being kind of a dick to EDI too. We wouldn’t be alive right now if not for… her. _ As time whiled away and they hung aimlessly in space, he glanced up out the windows at the tendrils of a vast green nebula.

It hadn’t quite landed yet; none of it had. Not that the vessel was the same one from before, not the Illusive Man’s intentional setup, although he had suspected something like that… and not the fact that he’d  _ lost it _ and had EDI take over. These were all facts without any emotional significance, because what were emotions? Joker was numb.  _ Almost  _ numb.

The truth was, a certain amount of adrenaline just wouldn’t go away. As he stared out at the stars, he knew he  _ needed  _ to see Shepard. Waiting for tomorrow was an idiot’s game, and he’d been playing it far too long.

* * *

  
  


“I was wondering when the Illusive Man was going to pull the rug out from under us. I just… didn’t think it would be now,” said Shepard. She looked up at Garrus as he leaned against his console. The turian looked off into the red glow of the Thanix Cannon’s internals. Both were quiet for a moment, the only sound in the room the ringing hum of energy flowing through the Main Battery’s many conduits.

“I’m glad to know you were only half-surprised. It’s nice that you could have thought for even a minute that a turian patrol had the capability to knock  _ that thing _ for six.”

“Half-surprised is right. Did the Illusive Man really think I would miss his eyes, or…?”

“I don’t follow.”

“His  _ eyes _ ,” she said. “They glow. At first, I thought they were just standard cybernetic replacements, but, I’m pretty sure I know where he got them,” she said, crossing her arms. “Especially now.”

“What are you going to do?” Garrus shook his head. “If there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you have a plan.”

She laughed. “Right now? I think my plan is to  _ make _ a plan. I need to know what I’m doing before I go after this Reaper IFF.”

Garrus put a finger to his chin in thought. “First he sends you to the Collector ship that killed you the first time, then he sends you to a derelict Reaper right after? It sounds like he’s upping the ante.”

“You might say I need a minute to think about it first.”

Garrus straightened up and looked behind Shepard, toward the door. His pupils dilated and mandibles fluttered in what Shepard recognised as pleasant surprise. “Ah, Tali,” he said.

“Oh, Shepard. Am I interrupting?” she asked, tilting her head to the side and touching her fingertips together. 

Shepard smiled and shook her head, stepping to one side. “No, he’s all yours, and in one piece.”

Tali needed no second invitation. She stepped up and put her arms around the turian’s neck in the kind of embrace that showed how much she’d been worried. She leaned her helmet against him and pressed herself as close to him as her suit would allow. For his part, Garrus cleared his throat sheepishly before his long arms enclosed Tali’s back in return.

“Ah, sorry,” he said, his eyes meeting Shepard’s briefly.

She smiled. “Nothing to be sorry for. I’ll see you two later.”

Seeing her squadmates hold each other in such a way brought a kind of heaviness to within her chest as Shepard stepped into the elevator. She thought back to the interrupted conversation with Joker. It couldn’t have been more than half a day, but it felt like a week had passed since he’d been standing in her quarters, staring at the door.  _ I wonder what he meant to say?  _ She tapped on her Omnitool. No messages.  _ Should I send him one?  _ Shepard stared into the message composition dialogue, her fingers poised over the keyboard. As she leaned against the back of the wall and considered her options, the elevator lurched upward, bringing her back into the present. She hit the button for Deck 1 and looked back down.

_ To: Moreau, J _

_ Subj: Some things are better actually said _

_ Body: If you want to finish your point, you can find me in my quarters. It’s not an order, just an invitation. _

Some seconds later the doors opened on Deck 2.

“Mm, hello,” she said, too distracted by sender’s regret to look up. The glow of a second Omnitool disappeared off to the side as the doors closed.

"Going up?" asked a reedy, familiar voice that made her look up in surprise. Joker looked at her with a tired smile, his eyes full of warmth. “Hey,” he said. Her throat grew tight. To her, he could never have looked more handsome and perfect than he did right then, just standing in the corner of the elevator with his finger on Deck 1. At the sight of him she was hit by a wave of relief and pride so strong, such emotion should have had its own name. Maybe it did.

“Hey,” she replied. “Thanks for getting us out of that.”

“Heh. Yeah, well, you know, letting us all die kinda got in the way of my plans.”

“I can relate,” she said with a soft chuckle. She tilted her head. “And what  _ are  _ your plans?”

“Well, I gotta track down the Commander, so I guess that’s done. And then, I gotta apologise for being an insecure asshole and I think that’s probably gonna take some time, but uh, after that I’m free?”


	13. Sailors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm in a glass case of emotion  
> THIS CHAPTER HAS AN ASSOCIATED COMIC! See: https://www.deviantart.com/uglynoodles/art/TBMS-WRE-Chapter-Thirteen-P1-865475075  
> There are seven pages worth!
> 
> (Originally I thought Open Arms by Journey as the little lyric snippet was gonna be... a bit on the nose? But like, if you have a second look up the lyrics in its entirety, it's kind of too thematically appropriate not to use. It's sorta "a bit on the nose" but in a good way. I feel like I'd be irresponsible by not using it at this point.)
> 
> Spoilers for the chapter I suppose - gets pretty hot and heavy in here. At one point, a character sort of explores the idea that they're a little bit in control of the situation in a way that's meant to be playful and fun and isn't intended to compromise anybody's autonomy at all! Because this specific element of what happens wasn't previously discussed between the two of them, and it just kinda... happens, I thought to mention it here as it was brought up to me.

_"Lying beside you, here in the dark_  
_Feeling your heart beat with mine_  
_Softly you whisper, you're so sincere_  
_How could our love be so blind_  
_We sailed on together_  
_We drifted apart_  
_And here you are, by my side"_

_Journey, Open Arms_

When they stepped out of the elevator, she put her arms around him.

"So, I gotta be honest," he said as Shepard held him close. "Before… when I was being an ass, I said I'd been thinking about the whole  _ you and me _ thing all day. And that was true," he said, and pulled back from her just enough to look into her eyes. He sounded serious. Something in his tone told her he'd been going over these words. "The thing is… I've been thinking about  _ you and me _ for a lot longer… and that's why I got all weird at you. I guess seeing some of that stuff down on Omega made me realise… " Unable to hold her gaze, he trailed off as he looked to the side, towards her quarters. Shepard unclasped her hands from around the small of his back and went to the doors. Once inside, she looked back toward him.

As he stepped through after her, he cleared his throat. "So, you said what's going on between us is up to me. What I was gonna say before is that, well… I want you. To myself, in a way. I mean, with less vampire brain sucking? Probably? But, you know, I'm open to ideas," he said with a lop-sided smile.

She sidled up to him and picked up where she left off. As she stroked down his arms, the tension in his muscles betrayed his casual tone of voice. "I think I can promise you  _ much  _ less vampirism, yes," she said.

"I figured, but hey, don't knock it 'til you've tried it, that's my motto." She felt him relax.

“Did you  _ really  _ think I was going to say no to you?”

“I dunno, I  _ was  _ kind of a dick earlier.”

She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. “I’m not going to throw you out the airlock just because you said something I didn’t like, remember?” She smiled. “You’ve saved my life more times than I can count. You mean so much to me. You’re  _ worth  _ a misunderstanding or two.”

It was as though her words busted some kind of dam. As he kissed her, he explored; his lips moved first to her cheek, then to the soft skin of her neck before travelling back up. With her arms around him, she soaked in the warmth from where their bodies touched. Almost as if her hands had a will of their own, she traced a path across him and felt all down his sides, enjoying the taper of his broad shoulders down to his waist. So close to him, she took in how he carried the scent of soap and something faintly spicy - whatever it was, it was good. 

Shepard returned his kisses and found she couldn’t think, could only  _ do  _ as a fire ignited within her.  _ Doing  _ meant taking his hand and leading him to the bed. It meant laying him down and sliding herself over his lap, watching how much weight she let down onto him. When he broke their kiss for breath, he swallowed hard, and as she brushed herself up against him she felt an entirely different kind of hardness pressed up against her. This was just the response she wanted. She tugged on the soft fabric sides of his uniform, urging him on, wanting to feel his skin against her own. His fingers felt like ice as he pulled her undershirt free from her belt. Shepard shrugged her garments off and tossed them to one side. She caught his eyes as she slid the straps of her bra over her round shoulders before she stopped just to admire him; to really  _ see _ him in the moment. All the times she’d imagined looking down at him beneath her in this way paled in comparison to the real thing. He looked up at her with those bright green eyes, desire and nervousness plain within them. As she dropped her bra onto the floor, she noticed all that enticing rigidity she’d felt just a second before was gone from him. His embarrassment was writ large across his face and he didn’t look as if he knew what to do with his hands. She slowed down to give him a moment, and eventually he settled for resting them on her waist. Now that she had most of her clothes off, he seemed a little paralysed, or intimidated. Perhaps both.

“I really,  _ really  _ want to, I’m just, uh…”

“It’s alright,” she said softly, remembering his inexperience. “It doesn’t always work like the movies. Trust me.” 

He nodded. At some point she must have turned the lights off, because he lay painted in the dancing blues of the aquarium. The warm glow of a lamp on the night-table picked out all the edges and lines that made him up. Shepard drank in the sight as she undid his belt, found the zipper for the front of his uniform, and took great pleasure in parting the thick vinyl plating away. She added his top to the pile of clothing on the floor. Joker's body was not as steely and defined as that of a super-soldier, but she found him gorgeous all the same; lean and trim, with gentle swells of muscle that just begged to be kissed and explored. Moreover, his hands were not those of a marine. He didn't spend his days holding a gun and dragging himself through rough terrain; he moved precisely across data screens, easing and fine-tuning as he plotted an intricate course through space, and his hands swept across her in much the same gentle way. 

Her pants slid down over her hips, exposing curves he couldn't stop stroking. When he sought to push more fabric aside, to feel out still hidden parts of her with his fingers, she couldn't help but give him a little, breathy sound of encouragement. His lips locked with hers, his mouth insistent and seeking. With every sound she made, he pressed up from beneath her;  _ this  _ seemed to be the key to making him forget his nerves. When he pulled her even closer, his grip was somewhat harder than she expected from him.

“Jeff,” she whispered in his ear as she touched her hips to him. His reaction was instant and instinctual as he strained up against her. She smiled. "Take your damn pants off?" she asked with a hint of playfulness. She'd never seen him respond to something so quick and kissed his warm cheeks as he fussed about with fulfilling her request. He gripped her thighs and his eyes tracked her hand as she swept from his chest down his stomach and beyond. He twitched at her touch, and his involuntary push up into her hand made her bite her lip in anticipation.  _ This _ was what she wanted;  _ he _ was what she wanted.

The soft, wordless groan that escaped him as their bodies joined was sweeter than any of the countless times she’d imagined it. It felt right, felt  _ good  _ to have him physically be the closest to her that he could ever be. Shepard thrived on the pleasure of her partner. Nothing thrilled her more than  _ seeing  _ how she made him feel and it was all there in his furrowed brow, the tremble of his arms and the way he curved himself, though he had to hold back how hard he met her. He couldn’t move in quite the way he wanted to at first and this was evident in the frustrated sound he made as he bit his lip. When he moved, she then mirrored him, still letting him control the pace and pressure - something he was escalating a little fast. He lost his cadence, a beautiful urgency overtook him and he forced a sharp breath out through his  clenched teeth . His eyes squeezed shut and the rest of him locked up with a blissful moan. As the seconds passed and he slowly returned to himself, he blinked and gave her a look so sheepish, she couldn’t help but smile and lean down to kiss his cheeks.

“Don’t worry,” she said softly as she lay down next to him, pulling one side of the duvet over them to avoid the chill of the room. She tucked her chin onto his shoulder and held his arm to her chest. “It’s pretty normal to pop your chaff a little quicker than you expect the first time.”

“Heh. Well, what about you, though?”

“What  _ about  _ me? I got what I wanted…  _ for now _ ,” she said with something of a sultry purr. There would be time to teach him all about her in a little while… Right now, as she looked at him, she wanted him to enjoy that thick, tingling warmth she knew he must be feeling and just live in those few moments afterwards where everything feels good.

He gazed up at the skylight above them, his eyes half-closed and tracking the wisps of mass effect darting over the stars. After a long silence, he asked, “Man, what’d I do to deserve you?”

“You were the best damn helmsman in the Alliance fleet,” she said through a yawn, and kissed his shoulder. “And then everything else that came after.”

“Bailie?” he asked and turned his head to look at her.

“Mmm?” she murmured in reply.

“I… ” He looked back up. “Ah… Nothin’,” he said.

“Nothing yourself.” She nestled up close, keeping herself  _ next to _ rather than  _ on _ him. She would have liked to lay her leg and arm across him, but it would take time and practise to learn his fragile body’s limits. She cuddled his arm to her and played with his fingers, splaying them delicately. Shepard closed her eyes a moment, thought about the SR1 and the first time she’d noticed just how handsome her pilot was. It was an otherwise fleeting, inconsequential moment; he’d turned and looked up towards her, complaining about something or other and cracked a wry grin. The bridge’s orange lights caught his eyes and the edges of his features in a similar way that her night-table lamp did now. She reached up and stroked his cheek, fiddling with his bristly beard. “Thanks for letting me in,” she said softly.

A mischievous smile lit up his face. “Uh, actually, I’m pretty sure that’s what  _ I _ should be saying to  _ you _ .”

“Yes,” she said amid a laugh. She put her palm to the left side of his chest. “But I meant  _ here _ .”

“Oh. Yeah, you’re lucky I don’t charge. I could probably bankrupt you with all the back-rent.” His fingertips brushed lightly up and down her arm, and the sensation gave her goosebumps. He watched this reaction with some interest before he disentangled himself from her and painstakingly rearranged to lie on his side. She liked the scratch of his whiskers as he kissed her cheek and neck. His hand followed the contours of her body, stopping to press and knead and feel her in ways that captured her attention.

“What are you up to?” she asked as she felt his kisses get a little more insistent, a little more toothy. The rasp of his teeth to her neck made every nerve in her entire body react, something that seemed to give him no end of delight.

“Eh, I’m not a charity case… I don’t take without giving  _ something  _ back…” He said with a smile and slid his hand between her thighs. She parted her knees, eager for his touch. After not much guidance at all, the odd slight correction or readjustment, Shepard felt as though he could intuit the kind of touch she needed almost before  _ she  _ did. He had good instincts on how and where to tease, and it wasn’t long before she arched her back, her breath halting and ragged. At the last second, his touch lost all pressure and motion. She made a frustrated noise and bucked her hips up into his hand in a futile effort. This was met only by the sensation of his hot breath against her skin in a voiceless laugh. Her whole body shook as he touched her again - slowly, lightly - keeping her so close to what she needed without ever letting her spill over. 

It was infuriating - he had no  _ right  _ to be this good, and even less to keep her riding the line. After a while, he had her so wound up that with just a few tiny movements she gasped and writhed. With his body pressed up tight against her she felt just how much he enjoyed this little game of keeping her at his mercy.

She shuddered in desperation and through the slyest, most audacious smile she’d ever seen in her life, he said, “Go on,  _ ask me _ for it if you want it so bad _. _ ” The thrill of it shone in his eyes. He built her up again and all she wanted was for him  _ not to stop _ . She gripped the sheets, knowing she couldn’t grab  _ him _ that hard. When she cried out in delicious, sweet frustration she felt him grind his hips against her in response, teasing himself too.

“Please,” she whispered, breathless. He could deny her again and she knew it. From his wide smile she could tell he was relishing her pleading look, drawing it out and she couldn’t  _ stand  _ it, her body couldn’t take the tease anymore. “Jeff,  _ please! _ ”

The truth was, being denied felt a little good, too. It was  _ all  _ good. He didn’t stop, letting the pressure rise inside her to the point of no return. Shepard’s back lifted into an arc, her legs shook, she couldn’t control anything as ecstasy took hold. Having been on the edge for so long, finally tipping over was enough to make her attempt at his name just an inarticulate moan. He kept at her, slow and gentle even as she squirmed, just enough to keep her riding through it. When at last she sank back down to the mattress, she felt as though she had just been tossed ashore by a colossal wave that tingled all around her as it drained away; back into the only sea she wished she could drown in.

  
  


* * *

  
  


He knew what beauty was; the pursuit of it was part of what drove him to fly. He had seen countless golden sunrises light up the horizon on a thousand different worlds. He had been to nebulas that hung like paintings across unimaginable distances. Yet, all the glittering stars and swirling colours in the dark couldn’t compare to what he saw in her when she closed her eyes  _ for him _ . The game of it all was fun, but the reward was overwhelming; the way she parted her lips and gasped, surrendered herself, so beautiful and so  _ alive. _

As she lay bare before him, every breath she drew made his chest tighten with all the things he hadn’t let himself feel in the years she’d been gone. That she forgave him with words didn’t matter; he was seeing her -  _ really  _ seeing her - for the first time since her return. He had to be a part of that, had to give her the only thing he could to make it right;  _ himself _ . 

It wasn’t just a  _ want _ that made him caress and kiss and encourage her to shift herself, let him be with her a second time. It was a  _ need _ . Physically it was a need so powerful it almost hurt, soothed only by sinking deep into the heat of her body. A sweet, fiery sensation flowed up through him as their hips met. Nothing ever felt so good, so  _ right  _ than to be inside her. It felt like every moment he wasn’t this close with her, some part of his heart was seeking to be. Now that he was, instinct took over. She looked so perfect, every curve in stark relief against the watery blue light over her shoulder. Each time she took him, her body had this way of gripping him that felt so good it threatened to drive him mad. The sounds she made when he filled her up inside were almost enough on their own. Even pacing himself to protect his weak ribs against overexertion couldn't stop the pressure rising from within. He wanted to slow down, to savour it, but didn’t know how - not when it felt like  _ this _ , when he needed her so much. He ached to just let go and slam against her, make her whole body quiver with the force of how hard he wanted her to have him. He grit his teeth. Risked pushing it, only a  _ little, little _ bit. Anything to get across to her even a fraction of what he felt inside. When he heard her gasp in surprise and passionate delight, he couldn’t hold back. He rocketed over the edge. Though he couldn’t clamp down on her as hard as he wanted to, he gave it his best effort. Gave her everything he had in him to give. It was the kind of relief that made his toes curl and body shudder like the hull in a solar storm. He was left panting and pleasantly empty. It was good they were already lying on their sides, because when sense returned to him, it was easy to wrap around her back and hold her close. He kissed the nape of her neck over and over, breathing as hard as he could allow himself.

A powerful haze descended on him. It shrouded his mind like a blanket, blocking off all his thoughts. Nothing else mattered except him and Shepard. He couldn’t even be sure that anything existed past the boundaries of the mattress. This heavy, fuzzy feeling of completion was much more intense than anything he’d ever felt on his own. She looked up over her shoulder at him, a soft smile on her features. As he stroked up and down her shoulder, the pleasant, sleepy feeling made it hard to keep his eyes open. After a moment, he didn’t try to fight it anymore and just lay back.

“Hey, where’d your hat get to in all this?” she asked.

He grinned, his eyes closed. “No clue, and if  _ that’s  _ not an indication of a good time… I dunno what is.”

“Ah,” she said, and leaned off the bed. “Here it is.” She cuddled back up to him with the cap in her hands and slowly turned it to and fro. Through a yawn, she said, “It seems like yesterday your hat was blue.” She shook her head and made a vague noise of disapproval as she brushed something off a white part. “Do you ever wash this thing?”

“It’s a  _ hat, _ it doesn’t  _ need _ washing.”

“Well,  _ that’s  _ not true.”

“It is. If you want it to be lucky, anyway. I used to wash the old one, and just  _ look _ at what happened.”

“Hmm. I miss the blue. At least it would hide the dirt better.”

“Mm, I guess,” he murmured, and lay his head on her chest. He listened to her heart. The steady sound was calming. “It was a good one,” he said after a while. “Don’t have it anymore though.”

“No?”

“I left it with you,” he mumbled. He felt so warm and comfortable, like he could say anything. “At the Citadel. Probably still there.”

“What do you mean?” 

Half asleep, the soothing sensation of her fingers combing through his hair encouraged him to keep talking. “On your birthday. April. Had my hearing that day. Alliance told me I couldn’t fly anymore… I went to your memorial stone and I left it with you… I went there a lot.”

“Oh, Jeff…” she said. Hearing her say his name in such a tender way inspired a soft smile that faded quickly.

“I wanted to leave it at the big service but… uh, there were too many people,” he said. He recalled Kaidan’s red-rimmed eyes glaring at him and the awkward, forced civility between them at the event. Joker couldn’t be sure, but at the time it felt like a deliberate, concerted effort in the way his former friend crowded him out, guarding the coffin and keeping him from having a moment like everyone else. Kaidan’s righteous fury was so quiet and yet so palpable that there may as well have been a hundred of him standing between Joker and getting to say goodbye. Kaidan’s look said it all. He was in no position to argue about it, and spent the entire time staring at the floor in silence.  _ The only night I’ve ever been actually properly drunk,  _ he thought as he remembered the rest of that evening as just a queasy blur.  _ Surprised I still have a liver at all after that… Actually I probably wouldn’t if it hadn’t been for Chakwas.  _ He blinked as the memory surfaced.

_ “I know you do, Jeff. We all do,” said the doctor, all dressed in black. She sighed as she helped him to sit up. _

_ “No you don’t get it, nobody gets it,” he wailed. “You don’t understand. I do, I always did! And I let her die, I let her die, I let her die,” he sobbed. She rubbed between his shoulders like his mother used to do when he was small. _

_ Chakwas took the nearly empty bottle from his hand and inspected it. “Right. Jeffrey, pay attention, this is important. How many of these have you had?” _

_ “I dunno. Five. Eight. What?” _

_ “You’re still speaking, so I doubt it’s eight,” she said. She sighed again. “It’s very likely you’ll break a rib if you vomit this up… Let’s get you to my office.” _

_ He squeezed his eyes shut as his stomach roiled. “No. It’s too late. It should be me in there. In the box. Aw, she’s in a fucking box,” he cried. _

_ “Come now, up off the floor. This is not dignified. You’ll get your arm infected.” _

_ “Good. Don’t care.” _

_ “No, I don’t suppose you do, but I daresay she would,” Chakwas said, her matronly tone never failing. “She cared a great deal for you. The least you can do is preserve yourself on her account.”  _

_ Chastened for a moment, he didn’t even have it in him to protest when the older woman pulled a black handkerchief from her pocket and wiped at his tears. _

_ “If I throw up, I’ll… ” he started, but then the nausea hit, making him close his eyes. “ …Break ribs.” He fell silent. His saliva suddenly tasted metallic and much too sweet. _

Joker cringed inwardly. It only got worse after that.  _ Man, did I ever apologise for that? Actually, that probably seems like the kind of thing you just agree to never mention again. _

“You know, everybody’s been so…  _ polite  _ about the fact that I came back? I suppose?” Shepard mused. 

Hearing her voice brought him back out of the memory. “Uh. Hmm? Huh?”

“I kind of figured I’d have to field some sort of awkward questions about the afterlife from  _ somebody _ , but it never happened.”

“Oh. Um. Yeah. Well, we were coached. At least, the crew was. Okay,  _ I _ was.” 

“On what to say to me?”

“Kinda… more like what  _ not  _ to say to you.” He looked up at her. “Miranda had some really weird ideas on what might make you freak out.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense,” she said and smiled. “I’m not sure I’d know how to deal with me, either.”

“She told me not to crack any zombie jokes, for one,” he said and lay his head back down on her chest, wanting to hear her steady beat again. “Imagine her face when I told her that  _ you’d _ be the one to crack ‘em first.”

“I do look pretty good for a member of the legion of the undead, it must be said.” She gestured with one hand as if to show him a vid title. “ _ Night of the Living Shepard. _ ”

“Oh yeah, you said you watch old vids too, huh? Like  _ old _ old? The ones before Holo-Three-D.” He imagined her curled on a couch, watching the grainy, low-resolution images so characteristic of 20th century filmography flicker past. It wasn’t hard to picture.

“Remember when you were talking about movies with EDI, and I said some of my favourites were box office bombs? Well, zombies, vampires, monsters, horrors… you name it, I’ve seen them all.” She chuckled. “Growing up, my friends used to call them B-movies… as in,  _ Bailie Movies _ , because you bet if it was my turn to pick, it’d be a slasher or something.”

“Something else we have in common. Stay up all night, watch old movies, save the universe.”

Her fingertips returned to tracing patterns through his hair and she was quiet for a moment. “I don’t think I’m in the mood for those lately, though. Not after what I saw on that ship.”

“Yeah… it sounded like a mess down there. Are you… you know. Okay?” he asked. Her silence spoke volumes, and he hoped she drew some comfort from his squeeze.

“There was a huge pile of people down there. Just… just  _ parts _ ,” she said. He felt her shake her head. “I’ve seen bodies before, but not like that,” she said. Her heartbeat sped up. 

“I heard you and Garrus talking about them, yeah.”

“One of them looked like you.” She said, and swallowed. “And… being on the same ship that killed me last time has brought up some things for me.”

“Like what?” he asked. 

She rolled to face him and lay at eye level. “Well, I  _ died _ , and for the most part, people treat me as if it never happened,” she said, her finger rubbing at the bridge of her nose. “Sometimes, it feels like it’s only real to me.”

“Oh, it’s… uh, definitely on the real side of things to me, too.” He studied the slice missing from her right eyebrow and the bright green of her eyes as he searched for the right words. “Maybe I’m off track… but I notice you worry about this sometimes. Like, you try reminding yourself of it,” he said. He reached up and traced part of the line of her old scar, across the bridge of her nose and down onto her cheek. “It’s kinda hard to see now, but it’s still there… you haven’t lost anything.”

She took his hand in hers and clasped it. Her eyes brimmed with tears that she blinked away before they ever fell. “Thank you.”

“Where’d you get that, anyway? I always assumed a Thresher Maw did some landscaping on you.”

She sighed. “I did get it on Akuze. It’s strange, I don’t like to think about Akuze much, but the scar it left me with ended up being an important part of me.”

“I’m surprised you never did pick up a krogan boyfriend with that attitude on face scars,” he said. “Why’s it so important?”

“It reminds me I can get through anything. Besides, it ruined my career prospects as a model, so I had to make it mean  _ something _ .” She said and sniffed.

“Well, it’s still there. And hey, after all this is over, you wanna go hawk combat underwear or something, I’ll take your headshots for you. You can count on me.”

“I know I can,” she said. “I guess… time heals all wounds.”

He smiled. “Unless you’re a drell,” he said softly.

She laughed even as she touched her palms to her eyes. “Yes, unless you’re a drell.”

“As for the thing you said before,” he said, and paused. “About… the afterlife, or whatever? Well… I think it’s just a club on Omega… and if it was anything more than that, you’d have already made a whole lotta noise about it by now.”

Shepard’s brow furrowed. “This is all we have, as far as I know,” she said. Her eyes filled with determination. “If anything, it makes what we’re doing that much more important.”

He kissed her forehead. “Maybe there actually  _ is  _ an afterlife, and you just forgot because they kicked you out for taking the place over. I wouldn’t be surprised, you know.”

She said nothing in response, just drew up close to him and touched her head to his chest. His eyelids weighed a tonne. There was no need to move. Nowhere to go, for the moment. He looked down and watched Shepard’s sides rise and fall, felt her soft breath disturb the hairs on his chest. He wanted to sink into this feeling, but being this close to another person unguarded was an act of trust he needed to think carefully about. Just lazing around was one thing, but to be _asleep_ and unable to defend himself was another. Was she a fitful sleeper? Would she just lie on him suddenly and risk breaking something?

“Shepard?” he breathed, just above her ear. No response. He put his hand on her shoulder, but as he looked down at her, he couldn’t quite bring himself to shake her awake. The thought of getting up and leaving for his hard little bunk seemed painful as well as absurd. She looked so peaceful. Her skin felt silky beneath his hand and he just rubbed little circles on her shoulder with his thumb instead. “Please, don’t break me, okay?” he whispered. He let his hand drop to the mattress and closed his eyes. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Shepard’s body clock rarely made mistakes. Gradually she became aware of Joker’s arm around her, his chest against her back. His slow, deep breathing told her he was still fast asleep. She knew better than to open her eyes and ruin the moment. Shepard had been sleeping so deeply that, at first, her head felt strange, almost dizzy. The keenness of a well-rested mind was a sensation she hadn’t felt in years and she took her sweet time to appreciate that, for once, she didn’t feel tired. It was nice, too, to wake up being held. On her own, she would already have rolled free of the sheets and dropped for push ups. But, not this time. Shepard extricated herself from the tangle of his limbs just enough to turn over and look at him. He didn’t so much as stir. There was no sound except for the low rumble of the ship around them. As she watched him in the dim light of her cabin, all wrapped up in her sheets and lost in slumber, with a sharp pang in her chest she realised; there was nothing and no one in the galaxy she wanted to protect more than him. 

The thought of all those poor, twisted souls on the Collector ship invaded her mind. Each one of their broken bodies represented someone’s lost dreams. Each one was somebody’s missing child, parent, friend or lover. The sight of it made her stomach churn, stopping her in her tracks; half hanging out of the pile, one of those corpses’ resemblance to Joker was uncanny. Such a bloodied, wretched spectacle was seared into her memory. Its unseeing eyes, milky and covered in a thin sheen of frost haunted her the most. The actual Joker lay in her bed, bathed in starlight, and just  _ breathing  _ as if it were the easiest thing. As if life wasn’t some tragically fragile spark that could be wrenched out of him at any moment. The Reapers were coming.

Shepard swept her fingers through his hair and down his cheek. “Wake up,” she whispered. “It’s morning.”

He stirred. “… Mm, alarm hasn’t gone off yet…” He mumbled, his voice cracked with sleep.

She smiled and planted a kiss on his forehead. “It will, in about three minutes. Up.”

“Oh…?” He yawned and opened one eye into just a slit. “Sounds like a three-minutes-from-now kinda problem to me…” The warmth of his hand on her arm was seductive and the gentle tension behind his grip asked her to stay. “Aw, come on…I’ve thought about waking up next to you every day for ages… Gimme two minutes to enjoy it?”

She opened her mouth to protest, but decided against it. There wasn’t any way she was refusing that.

“You don’t snore or even  _ move  _ when you’re asleep,” he mumbled with a note of surprise. “That’s kinda good for me… I was sorta afraid you might roundhouse me in the middle of the night because you had a bad dream.” She sank back into his embrace. He added, “On the other hand, I  _ did  _ think you’d just up and died on me like twice, so there’s that.”

“Mmm,” she replied, lost in thought. Shepard lay coiled in his arms, mind whirring with thoughts of the dead Reaper. It was somewhere drifting out there in the void, a little black box hidden inside it that would carry her straight into the heart of their plans. Inside it was the key to trying to make sure they all survived.  _ Supposedly. _ Doing another little errand for the Illusive Man did not appeal to her.

Sourly, she envisaged the Illusive Man, sitting as usual in his glass office. Doubtless, he would be as he always was; dressed in a clean suit, a cigarette hanging between his fingers, and a smug grin plastered across his face as he looked out at a nearby star. Probably hoping that they ran headlong into the thing at FTL and just blew up.  _ That prick, _ she thought.  _ Coward can’t even talk to me in person. _ She recalled his sputtered excuses in the briefing room not ten minutes after she’d dragged herself aboard, still stanching blood that oozed from her overworked leg. He’d tried to hide his look of shock but Shepard was too focused on every twitch he made not to notice. He was so disgusting, she’d half expected him to burst apart at the seams and spill maggots everywhere. She stiffened as she pictured him reaching over and tapping his ashes into his little tray. He was perfectly content to sit back in his secret location and play her like a card.  _ I’m going to get that box, and I’m going to shove it so far up his ass that - _

Fingertips scratched pleasantly at the back of her neck. “You okay?” asked Joker, a little more awake than before.

“I’m thinking about what to do today.”

“Yeah, you look like you’re about ready to punch a hole in the hull. I kinda… really like it when you look like that,” he said and smiled. She returned it; focussing on him was  _ far  _ more appealing than thinking about that loathsome Illusive Man for even one second longer. Joker ran his hand all the way down her side, pausing over the curve of her hip. “You  _ might  _ wanna get some pants on first if you plan on fighting any crime today, though.”

“I don’t know, technically this is a civilian ship.”

“Well, if you’re looking for me to actually  _ argue in favour _ of you putting on clothes, you’ve come to the wrong guy. I figure I’ve done my duty by suggesting it.”


	14. Compass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All actions have consequences, we are all carvings made from the impacts others have on us.

_ “I have done all that I could _

_ To see the evil and the good without hiding _

_ You must help me if you can” _

_ Jackson Browne, Doctor My Eyes _

Some time later a freshly showered Shepard sat in the Mess with a datapad, poring over news articles and drinking coffee. Citadel feeds were alive with rumours of attacks on humans. Interviews with C-Sec portrayed them as either unconcerned or overworked - from experience, it was some combination of the two.

Grunt lumbered into her field of view, his entrance mostly ignored by the same crew who used to part around him like skittish mice.  _ He’s really come into his own, _ she thought as he queued up for a tray behind Miranda. 

“Nice day, Lawson,” he said.

“There isn’t any weather in space, Grunt,” replied Miranda, coolly. She was always a little acidic during the first part of the day. Shepard leaned back and tapped on her mug, observing the woman.  _ I guess the morning-person gene wasn’t a priority when she was cooked up. _

“I know that,” Grunt said. “But you humans always talk about weather when you meet.” He shifted his feet in a manner that suggested nervousness and Shepard smiled to herself. Krogan faces were difficult to read and Grunt’s rigid, lizard-like visage was no exception. He turned away from Miranda to collect his food, having given up on conversation. He threw his head back, tipped the entire contents of his plate into his open mouth and wiped his hand across his face. Gardner’s brows came together in disgust as Grunt dumped the plate onto the pile of used trays. The krogan turned to leave, but stopped in front of Shepard’s table on the way out. Standing still wasn’t exactly normal for him and she raised an eyebrow. “You alright there, Grunt?”

“Shepard,” he said and nodded. “I’m waiting for your permission to move on.”

“Hmm,” she said and eyed him over her mug. “Denied. Sit down.” The table’s seat creaked under his weight as he obeyed. She slid the datapad over to him. “What do you make of this?”

Grunt picked it up and aimed one large blue eye at it. “Hmm,” he said after a few moments scanning the article. He put the datapad down, his finger over the picture of the latest victim. “I think someone is sending a message, maybe. But just attacking humans? There’s probably more to it than that.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” she replied. “Look at the recent victims. See how they-” Shepard was distracted by Grunt’s eyes shifting from her to just behind her, over her shoulder.

“Nice weather, Jack,” said Grunt.

“Yeah… we’re in  _ space _ , big boy.”

“Why does everybody keep telling me that?” he grumbled under his breath.

Shepard turned around in her seat. “Jack,” she said. “Can I do something for you?”

“I don’t know, can you?” she said, crossing her arms. “Got a second to hear me out?”

Shepard gestured next to her. “Sit down, then.”

“So. I never said anything about it before. But, I wanted to say…” she said, eyeing the datapad still open on the article Grunt had been reading. “I shouldn’t have shoved you over at poker that time. I was pissed off, but it was over the line.” Before Shepard could respond, Jack leaned past her and snatched up the datapad.

Shepard cleared her throat. “Mmm. I was thinking about checking this out,” she said. “My contacts on the Citadel tell me there’s likely a pretty powerful biotic involved. Are you up for it?”

Jack looked as if she were about to snap some kind of retort, but stopped herself short. “Yeah. I am.”

“Maybe we can get to the bottom of this while I think about what our next move is.”

“Someone’s a multitasker,” said Jack, looking up from the datapad with a barely disguised sneer.

“I’m a  _ kinetic thinker, _ you might say. I think best when I’m moving. I know you hate it when people relate to you, but I’m going to guess you’re the same.”

“Actually, Shepard, I’ll give you that one.” Jack looked down the side of her nose at Shepard.

“Good. I could use your skills on this, I don’t like the idea of going up against biotics without some on my side.”

“Interesting that you didn’t go for the asari samurai or whatever.”

Shepard blinked slowly. “She just got finished murdering her own daughter, I think I’ll pass on asking her for lethal favours right now,” she replied, turning back to the table with a sigh. “Besides, you’ve been aching to stretch your legs a little more often, and this will give you the opportunity.”

Grunt tapped the table. “Garrus knows more about the Citadel than me. You should take him and Jack with you. I will stay here.” He said. “Hmm. Maybe I will watch a vid.”

“Well, don’t watch the Godzilla ones without me,” said Shepard with a wink as she pulled up her Omnitool and sent course changes to the helm. “I’m going to go make some calls.”

“You do that,” said Jack, and swung her leg off the table’s bench.

  
  


* * *

“At least my reinstatement as a Spectre bought us a ticket inside,” she said with a sigh over her shoulder towards Garrus. They stood in the back of a C-Sec office room with a single table, a plant that looked as if it had never seen light nor water, and a screen that spanned the entire far wall. Shepard scowled as she panned through the giant holoscreen. Mugshots glowed across the digital board, all connected by labelled and coloured lines.

The turian looked down at her and shook his head. “Were you expecting your own detail? I’ll bet as soon as C-Sec heard you were coming this way, they sent everybody on break for snacks.”

Shepard tapped on the photographs of the victims. Early attacks were mild, leaving victims with light cuts and bruises. As time progressed, the injuries sustained got more and more severe. Recent attacks left several victims maimed. “Look at this,” she said. A row of victims’ pictures appeared. All were human women of different races and ages. “What do you see?”

Garrus tilted his long head as he took a moment to examine the spread of pictures, his pupils contracting into points. “All of them have their fringes kept very short,” he said.

“Yeah, it’s  _ hair _ , Garrus,” said Jack. “It’s a little familiar, don’t you think?” she asked, standing to one side with her arms crossed. “So, six of these are ex-Alliance. Two of the others serve right now. That’s more than the news said.”

“A lot more,” said Garrus, nodding in agreement. “I’m surprised the Alliance hasn’t taken over the investigation efforts already,” he thought aloud as he followed a trail of coloured lines up to a picture. “But then again… maybe they don’t know.”

“What makes you say that?” asked Shepard. A nest’s worth of connections lined up to surround a group of pictures. All of them, asari. She looked from them back to Garrus.

“See this one?” He highlighted one of the photos with a tap of his finger. “ _ That _ is Tevos Auraeus’ daughter.”

Shepard balked. “The Councillor’s daughter? You think she’s behind this?”

Jack sneered. “Fucking politicians and their shitty kids. A coverup would make sense. Let’s get her.”

“Hold on. I’m not sure. Pheolia has never expressed any anti-human sentiment,” Garrus stepped back and leaned his weight on one leg, his mandibles flexing rhythmically.

“You talk like you know her. Do you?” Shepard asked.

“Yeah… a little… Let's just say she and I used to do some… give and take. An exchange of  _ favours  _ for information on my investigations.”

“Ugh gross,” sighed Jack. “Figures you were a crooked cop. Do  _ any  _ of you  _ ever  _ just figure something out by investigating it with anything  _ other  _ than your dicks?”

Shepard raised her eyebrow up at Garrus. “By that, did you mean you met her for coffee once, stammered through some questions and then left after she gave you a name she was going to give you anyway?”

“Believe whatever you want, Shepard,” he said with a rasping, dry chuckle. “Point is, I don’t think it’s her. Do you recognise any of the others? I don’t, and none of them are labelled here.”

“Hmm. No. But I have an idea.” She aimed her Omnitool up at the board and snapped pictures of each image. She touched her earpiece. “Joker.”

_ “Aye, Ma’am?” _

“I’m sending you some pictures. Have EDI cross-reference them with anything she can find on the Citadel. News, social media, whatever. I want to know who they are.”

_ “We’re on it, Ma’am.” _

“That’s a good idea,” said Garrus. “You might not come up with anything, but it’ll be faster than asking the department to look for you.” Garrus looked out the office’s glass wall, into the hallway where several people bustled past. Three officers with rifles rushed past the door, talking on an earpiece. Shepard noticed Garrus’ finger adjust something on his visor. “Hmm,” he said at last. “Something’s happened.”

“Yeah? And what do you wanna bet it has something to do with one of these blue bitches?” came Jack’s snide remark.

Garrus held out his hand, gesturing for her to be quiet. “I’m listening… It doesn’t seem to be related,” he said. “Seems like a big fire on one of the Upper Wards.” Jack lifted her hands up in frustration.

Shepard returned to the faces of the asari on the holo-wall. “I actually don’t think Pheolia has anything to do with whatever this is,” she said after a moment and tapped her finger to her lip.

“Why not? If the Alliance isn’t sending its goons crawling up everybody’s ass about this then that means they don’t know, like he said. The fucking daughter of the asari Councillor being a little splat-happy makes sense to me.”

“Right,” Shepard conceded. “But… C-Sec is looking  _ right at her _ for this. She’s the only named suspect on the list. It’s the first thing in your face when you look at this… for me, or any Alliance jobsworth who might come sniffing along looking to take over the investigation,” she said and watched Garrus listen in on C-Sec frequencies. “Don’t you think a politician like Tevos would keep her daughter’s nose a little cleaner than  _ that?” _

“You’re probably right on that one, Shepard,” said Garrus over his shoulder. “That she’s even on that list at all shows she’s likely got nothing to hide, as backwards as that sounds. Politicians usually hide their skeletons better than that, even when the skeletons are still out there walking around.”

“So is there some kind of dumbfuck code you cops use to keep track of the  _ actual _ suspects, if the ones you write down are just bullshit?” Jack sighed.

“You misunderstand,” said Garrus. “She  _ is  _ a suspect, which means one of three things. The only relevant one would be the idea that Mommy Dearest is annoyed with Pheolia enough to let her start catching heat for these attacks, whether she’s done them or not… and I haven’t heard anything about that. That family, it’s, ah, tighter than an Elcor’s asshole, if you’ll pardon the expression…” The turian looked distracted by the sight of more and more officers streaming out of the facility. “This fire must really be getting out of control,” he said.

“Why don’t you give her a call? For old time’s sake,” Shepard said, crossing her arms. “I’m sure she’ll remember her old flame at C-Sec who went on to make a name for himself? Hmm?”

“I’ve already sent her a message.”

“Oh nice job tipping her off,” snorted Jack.

“Relax,” said Garrus with a shake of his head. “She’s seen the message. Just give it a minute.”

“What’s with targeting women with short hair, though?” asked Jack as she ran her hand over her own scalp. “That seems pretty specific.”

“It’s more than specific,” Shepard replied. “It’s personal. Whatever this is, I’m almost certain it was designed to get  _ my  _ attention.”

“There’s been an all units call up to one of the Wards,” said Garrus, his hand still pressed to his visor. “Should we go too?”

“I don’t see a need for us to get involved in that. Have you heard from Pheolia yet?”

“Uh, let me check… She’s just said something now… She says she’s relieved to have heard from somebody about it… Uh… yeah, yeah, yeah… yeah.” As he read, his mandibles tightened up against his metallic carapace and somehow he flushed a little blue under all that bony metal. “She gave an address.”

“What’d you skim over, Casanova?” Shepard said through a grin.

“Nothing I’d repeat sober. I think we should go and ask her some questions. It sounds like she might know something.”

“Yeah, like how to set a trap,” grumbled Jack. “Whatever. Anything to get moving.”

Shepard strode toward the taxi rank. She reached the call terminal as a horde of cruisers flew out in formation to the emergency on one of the Wards. Taxis were operating as usual however and soon, she, Jack and Garrus piled into a transport. Jack pressed herself up against the door of the car, trying to sit as far away from Garrus as possible. He noticed this and made a show of leaning just a little closer. His armour made a sharp clink as Shepard flicked it with her finger and shot him a look.  _ Don’t be an ass, _ she thought toward him.  _ Jack’s being pretty good so far, all things considered. _ As if he heard her, he pulled back and looked at his Omnitool instead.

“Where are we meeting her?” she asked. Outside the window, skyscrapers flew by. As the taxi banked, a section of one of the Citadel arms was revealed, part of it glowing orange. Though it was only a small square from where she was, the fire must have been huge, spread across multiple blocks. Her earpiece crackled.

_ “Hey, Commander, I think I’ve got something for you,” _ Joker’s voice over the comm was a little urgent.  _ “Okay, so, EDI didn’t find anything on any of these except for the Councillor’s daughter, which, uh… you’re already taking care of. But, you remember that café we went to together?” _

“Yeah?”

_ “Yeah, the pissy waitress who gave you the murder glare? She’s the third one. I remember her.” _

Shepard blinked in surprise and brought the picture up again. “Now you mention it, there is something familiar about her face,” she said and squinted at the image.

_ “Yeah, I wouldn’t forget it. Over and out.” _

Garrus leaned in close to Shepard. “Went to a café with Joker, eh? Anything  _ you’re _ skipping over, Murelius?”

“Murelius?” Shepard echoed.

“You mean to tell me I’ve researched human culture enough to know who Casanova is, but you don’t know who Murelius Arkelon is?” It was amazing how a man with such a rigid face could still look so simpering when he wanted to.

“It’s the guy from Fleet and Flotilla,” said Jack with a shrug. Both Shepard and Garrus looked across at her.

“Ignoring for one moment that  _ you  _ are the  _ least  _ likely person I would ever think to watch that, no, that’s Marrius Arkelon. Similar name,” said Garrus. Turning back to Shepard, he continued. “Murelius was a General who fell for his ship’s helmsman. He was scandalised when they were discovered on the bridge, with the pilot flying  _ him  _ instead.”

No witty retort came to mind. “I see,” she said and cleared her throat.

Garrus’ mandibles spread wide as he laughed, “Aha, so you can dish it out, but you can’t take it?”

Pheolia’s apartment was the penthouse suite at the top of a highrise, enclosed within an atrium and surrounded by gardens. The place was expansive and airy. Intricate sculptures sat in tasteful arrangements, surrounded by leaves and exotic flowers. The petals, painted with what looked like platinum, spoke of the Araeus family’s deep pockets. Money dripped from every leaf, pooled in every beam of light, and as Shepard glanced around, she couldn’t help but compare the opulent glitter of the gilded plants to the rainy grime of the streets she grew up on. Jack met her eyes, and judging by their shared gaze, the other woman was having similar thoughts.

Garrus took the lead. As they wound their way up the artful stone path towards the door, he raised his hand in greeting. “Pheolia,” he said. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with us on such short notice.”

“Hello, Garrus,” she said warmly. Pheolia resembled her mother strongly, though her skin was a lighter shade of blue. The designs surrounding her eyes were similar in pattern, but magenta in colour; very unusual. She gave Shepard and Jack a polite nod. “Can I offer you all some tea?”

“Is it made out of gold and orphans’ tears?” Jack muttered under her breath. Shepard shot her a look. Jack spoke up properly. “Yeah ma’am, I actually do want some.”

“Very well,” she said with a slow nod. Pheolia gestured with her hand and a tray floated towards her arms from somewhere inside the house. As she set about preparing the heating element for the water, teapot and mugs, she leaned to one side to get a look at Shepard. “Hello. Thank you for what you did for us in the battle two years ago… My mother would not be alive were it not for your decision. It would be wise of her to remember that more often.“

Shepard nodded and took a mug from the tray. “I’m glad she’s well.”

“I’m a little disheartened that it had to be you to come to me, however, and that C-Sec hasn’t taken care of this itself,” she said. She filled several cups on the hovering tray from a glass teapot and stepped forward to offer one up. “The last time they were here, they seemed to think I had something to do with it, but the situation is… rather complex.”

Shepard brought up her Omnitool, thumbing through the images of the asari suspects. She turned her arm towards Pheolia. “Do you know any of these people?”

Looking them over between serving Jack, Pheolia gave a disappointed sigh and shook her head. “Yes, I do… though not all of them. If I may?” the asari reached up and passed her finger over the pictures, stopping at the third. “This… is Lehyra T’Lixia.” Pheolia shook her head as she looked at the picture. “Why don’t you all come inside and sit with your tea?”

The inside of the room behind her was warmly lit, with tables and chairs amongst the plants. Jack sat down at one, mug clutched in one hand, examining the strange plants with the other. She reached out and felt one of the leaves, gently rubbing it between her fingers.  _ If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was actually enjoying herself a little. _

“She and I were childhood friends,” explained Pheolia as she took a seat next to Garrus, and gave him a look brimming with such tenderness that Shepard wondered just how casual their relationship had really been. “Lehyra had this dream she was always chasing and it led her in with a bad crowd. She used to boost vehicles and handle explosives and things for them. Things started to turn up for her in the past year or so and she stopped with all that, but her husband died very recently and ever since then, she’s been acting out in strange ways.”

“Who was her husband?” Garrus asked. He looked unsure what to do with himself, which wasn’t altogether uncommon, but especially so sitting next to this asari. Draped in golden silks, Pheolia placed her hand on Garrus’ knee, who responded by patting it with all the grace of an awkward teenager who’d just been asked to hug his cousin.

“I don’t know, she never talked much about him,” she replied with some regret. “I always got the impression she liked to keep that part of her life private.”

“Acting out in strange ways, how?” asked Shepard, figuring she might do Garrus a favour by drawing Pheolia’s attention away from him.

“Recently, she… came to me asking for money. Her financial problems were nothing new, but apparently this husband of hers was keeping her entire situation afloat and with him gone, she was desperate.” Shepard noticed how Pheolia’s grip on her mug tightened. “She kept asking me to get her in touch with Mother’s bondm-- ah, best friend, in search of work.” She touched her hand to her crest in embarrassment. “She… started belittling humans, saying some unkind things about their advancement in society.” Her nod towards both Shepard and Jack was contrite. “I apologise, I have at times been sympathetic to some of those arguments in the past, but… as I have gotten to know more humans, I have reexamined myself and my position.”

“Did you give her the money?” Jack piped up from her chair.

“I… yes, I gave her what she asked for. With her husband gone, her shop was the only thing left, and I didn’t want her to lose everything.” She looked out the atrium window a moment, lost in thought. “It’s just so strange because, from what little I do know of her husband, he was human… The reports say the victims are all human and with the things she’s been saying recently, it would make sense.”

“Did you tell all this to the officers who came by?” asked Garrus. There was something frustrated in his tone but Shepard got the impression that it was directed more towards C-Sec than it was Pheolia herself.

“I did, but they seemed much more interested in the fact that I had given her money for her café. They wanted to know everything about that.” She looked down at her lap. “Garrus, I’m really afraid that Lehyra has gotten herself embroiled in something very bad. All of the victims look like Shepard and… um, her friend here, I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name…”

“Jack.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, a pleasant lilt returning to her voice in the manner of a practised hostess. “You have very beautiful markings, Jack,” she said. Jack lifted her head from her mug at the compliment and shared a bemused look with Shepard as if to say,  _ ‘Can you believe this woman?’ _

Pheolia returned to the issue at hand. “I think… Lehyra might be lashing out against people who look like you, Shepard. Maybe it’s because of who you are to other humans.”

Shepard leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. She put her fingertips together and let out a long breath from her nose. “Thank you for your help.”

The asari lowered her gaze. “You are welcome… You are the one doing the real effort.” She frowned. “Seeing as it’s gotten so bad that it’s in  _ your  _ hands personally, I have no illusions as to what you may need to do. I hope you understand, I care about Lehyra and I want to help her, but she can’t keep hurting people.”

“Violence isn’t my first tactic. It depends on what she decides to do, okay?”

Pheolia nodded and stood up to show them out. As they were leaving, she cleared her throat. “One other thing… Please be careful. Many of her other friends are… well, unpleasant.”

  
  


* * *

Shepard recognised the copse of trees from the window of the taxi. She ground her teeth as the transport set down and flung the door open. Striding across the grass, Jack and Garrus’ footfalls caught up to her. Without a word, she passed by the familiar bench and took a left, up toward the road.

“Alright, Shepard. Slow down a second. What’s the plan? We going in hot, here?” Garrus asked.

“No. We’re going to go in there and we’re going to ask her why she’s doing what she’s doing.”

“Should I lead? I’m not human.”

The yellow awning flapped in the distance. It looked different in the overcast light. “Maybe that’s a good idea. Jack and I will hang behind you.”

The turian passed in front. The trio headed up to the shop’s front. The sign inside the door’s window read,  _ ‘Closed.’ _ Shepard crossed her arms. “Strange. It’s only mid-afternoon.”

“Oh look.  _ Here comes the hero _ , right on time.” A mocking, icy voice came from behind, to Shepard’s left. An asari sat atop a wall overlooking the little street, examining her nails. “Or at least, she  _ thinks _ she is. So. You remember me, right? Or, maybe you don’t… someone in  _ your  _ station must meet people all the time. Get faceblind, I guess.”

“Lehyra,” said Garrus in a bid for her attention, his hands raised. 

Her eyes locked onto him. “Who was talking to you, skullface?” Jack snorted in response, something halfway between a laugh and a bark of derision.

“I remember you,” said Shepard. “So, T’Lixia, let’s talk. You wanted my attention, right? That’s why you’ve been going around hurting people?”

“ _ People _ ? At a stretch, I guess you could say. You’re more like animals. You  _ can  _ talk, but you all live for barely more than five minutes, and in that time you can’t help but act on every stupid little impulse you have. Honestly, if you ask me, it’s like you never came down from the trees.” Lehyra gave Shepard a condescending smile.

Shepard sighed. “I have things to be doing.”

The asari’s eyes flashed. “You would be impatient, wouldn’t you? Sort of your defining characteristic. See, everyone goes around putting you on a pedestal, but I know what you are. You’re nothing but a violent ape in a fancy suit.”

“Oh yeah? Pfft, and what the fuck are you?” Snapped Jack. Her wiry body tensed. She was spoiling for a fight.

“Someone very angry,” replied the asari with a shrug. She stood up, and as she did so, floated to the ground from atop the wall. She looked at Jack, who stood coiled up like a snake ready to strike, and lifted her lip in disgust. “Little crestless monkeys band together, I see,” snorted Lehyra. Turning her focus back to Shepard, she shrugged. “It doesn’t matter how many friends you have with you. I’ll get what I want out of today.”

“And what  _ do  _ you want?” asked Shepard. “We don’t have to fight.”

“You don’t get it,” she snarled. “You already took what I want the most.”

“Not following you.”

“You don’t even remember him,” hissed Lehyra, her voice breaking.

“Who?”

“You know, I never wanted much,” she said, wiping at her eyes to regain her composure. “This little café was my dream. For four hundred years, I worked and never got enough. Didn’t do too well at shaking my ass, so what’s a girl to do?” Lehyra stepped a little closer. “My husband, may the Goddess rest his soul, met me when I ran with the girls in Eclipse. He married me and let me come back to the Citadel to make this place.”

Shepard shook out her aching leg. “I’m sorry for your loss, but I don’t see what this has to do with me, or why you’ve --”

“You shoved him out of a window, Shepard,” she snapped. Her whole body crackled with biotic energy. “I saw the recordings. My husband wasn’t attacking you. He wasn’t even in your way. You murdered him! Now he’s gone, and all my dreams are gone, and  _ you  _ are going to pay!” She looked up over her shoulder and nodded sharply. Several figures in yellow and black armour erupted from cover. There were more Shepard couldn’t see, and she wasn’t about to wait in the open to find out. She darted back behind a planter, her foot throbbing and numb from a biotic field that just missed. The figures in armour were all asari commandos, and they all made difficult targets. Each one flitted about like a bird.  _ Ah, fuck. This is bad, and what’s worse… I kind of get it. _

Jack snapped into action, engaging several of the armoured asari with a frenzy Shepard was glad not to be on the wrong side of. Her cochlear dampener kicked into overdrive as Jack sent one of them crashing to the ground with a force that would’ve shattered anyone’s bones. Garrus’ broad shoulders were tight against his body as he snaked his way around the side of the building to pick a target from cover. Shepard was about to signal him to flank her own target when her feet left the ground. Surrounded by a mass effect field, she weighed nothing more than the air itself and flailed end over end, scrabbling for purchase on something nearby.

“Let her be, Shelira! She’s mine!” a voice shouted from behind. All of a sudden, Shepard had weight again and dropped like a stone. She landed so hard a hot twinge shot up the inside of her calf. Lehyra bolted around the side of the building. Shepard heaved herself up onto her feet and into hot pursuit. 

Her leg quivered under the strain. Lehyra was fast, but Shepard was gaining. She threw herself on top of the asari, who aimed a kick square at Shepard’s vulnerable shin in the scuffle. She cried out in pain and buckled. A fist hit her face, and the tables were turned in an instant. Lehyra put her entire body’s weight down onto Shepard’s throat. In a panic, her thumb and forefinger flexed, activating her Omnitool. The asari pulled back, distracted by the sudden orange glow thrust in her eyes. Shepard’s swing missed, and Lehyra was back on top in an instant, her fingers squeezing around Shepard’s neck. A red dot appeared on the side of Lehyra’s head.

“Stop,” Shepard gasped. “He’ll shoot you! Stop!”

“You think I care?” Lehyra hissed back. “Go ahead. It doesn’t matter what happens now, I’m still going to hurt you the same way you hurt me!” Her mouth twisted into a sadistic grin. It was hard to breathe. Harder to speak, but Shepard tried.

“Please… doesn’t… have to be like this…!”

“Stop begging! It’s pathetic!”

Shepard’s back hit a tree and the wind rushed out of her. The sharp smell of biotics burned the insides of her nose. She spluttered and struggled to fill her lungs. Finally, she managed to suck in a breath and Shepard staggered to her feet.  _ Fuck my stupid leg! She’s one weedy asari, I should’ve taken her already! _ A wet warmth that stunk of iron trickled from her nose down onto her lip.

“Killing me isn’t going to bring him back,” she said with a shake of her head. “I’m sorry for what happened. He chose his life, and so did I. You ran with Eclipse, you knew the risks of the job.”  _ Keep her talking. _ Jack and Garrus would be closing in.

“He was just standing there!” she screamed.

“I know,” she replied. “It doesn’t make what I did right. But it’s done. Isn’t that what Sederis teaches you?”

“How the fuck would you know what Eclipse’s leader says about anything?”

“Because it’s my job to know. Just like you and your husband, it’s my job to know about these things. I bet you know a lot as an ex-chop-shopper.”

“Are you trying to stall? Go ahead. No one’s coming to help,” she growled. She was breathing hard. “They’re all at the fire my girls set off.”

“I don’t need anyone’s help,” Shepard replied, and took a step forward. “My man has you in his sights. You don’t want to die, that’s why you threw me.”

“I just want to hurt you,” sobbed the asari. “I just want to rip your heart out, and I  _ will _ , one way or another.”

Jack’s light footsteps coming in from behind Shepard got her attention. Garrus positioned himself behind Lehyra, his rifle aimed at the asari’s head.

“You have a long life ahead of you. I know coming from me it isn’t worth very much, but you have a long time to set these dreams up again. You need to be held responsible for what you did to those other people, but things don’t have to end badly between us here. These are temporary problems.”

_ “Shepard, she has something in her hand. She pulled it out of a pocket on her leg and tapped the top. It might be some kind of detonator,” _ Garrus’ voice rasped in her ear over the comm. She made eye contact with him, gestured for him to wait. He nodded. Shepard advanced, keeping her focus on Lehyra, who glanced around. Backed into a corner as she was, she seemed remarkably unconcerned.

“What’s that?” asked Shepard as she took another step forward.

The asari’s slow smile chilled her to the bone. “That guy you came here with… you seemed real cosy. I looked him up. He’s your pilot, right?”

The butt of Shepard’s pistol dug into her hand, she was squeezing it so hard. “Put whatever that is down.”

“You don’t want me to do that, it’s a dead-man’s switch. If I take my thumb off, the nose of your ship goes ring-high,” she snarled. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re either going to let me kill you, right here in front of your friends… Or I’m going to send him to the Goddess.”

“He’s not even on the ship,” Shepard scoffed. Sweat prickled at the back of her neck. In her heart, she knew he was sitting in his chair, probably watching something on one of his screens, just waiting for her to come home.

The way Lehyra kept smiling made Shepard swallow hard. 

“That’s not what my girls tell me. They have scanners. They can tell he’s right there.”

Her ribs ached as she took a steadying breath, eyes never leaving Lehyra’s. “Okay,” she said. “You called my bluff, now I’m calling yours.” Her gut twisted as she uttered the words, “Blow up my ship. Fine. Kill my pilot.  _ Fine _ . Kill me, if that’s what you really want. But I know  _ you  _ don’t actually want to die, and if you drop me… I don’t think either of my friends here will be too happy about that. Neither will that big krogan who was here last time. Cleaned you out of scones. Probably remembers just what you smell like.” She was inches from the asari now, whose face contorted in fury. Balancing her weight on her good leg, she took a second to calculate. If she pounced, she had just  _ one shot  _ to wrap her hand around Lehyra’s - to keep that button pressed, keep herself and the Normandy in one piece. She knew better than to try and get Joker on the earpiece to warn him. That would give Lehyra a physical opening as well as provoke her. If she played it right, Joker would never even know that whatever vid he was watching could be his last.

_ “Shepard,” _ Garrus began, but she held out her fingers.  _ Hold. Hold it…  _

“You’re smart,” she said. “I’ll give you that. You got my attention and you kept C-Sec occupied. But if something happens to me, it’s going to be you against my entire crew…” Her shoulders relaxed, her arm forward, ready to spring. “I have to say, I don’t like your odds.”

Lehyra’s cold laughter spat forth. “You think I want to live? I  _ have  _ lived, you _ chattering little monkey _ . I’ve lived long enough to know that this… this whole galaxy?” She gestured to the stars far above with the hand she had clamped around the switch. “This whole place is an empty  _ hole _ . If you’re lucky, you find someone who lights it up for a while, and I did.  _ You  _ took him from me.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “All that matters now is making you pay.” Shepard’s eyes flicked to the detonator. It was lined up perfectly… “Whether I see it here, or from the embrace of the Goddess, it makes no difference to me.” 

Time slowed to a crawl as her blue hand whipped up, the flare of biotics roiling like flames across her palm. Shepard lunged for the device, but a shot rang out. Lehyra’s body snapped taut, causing Shepard to fumble and miss. The biotic blast that would’ve broken her neck instead dented a nearby pylon almost in half. The metal groaned as it leaned forward. Jack hurled an energy field around it. The colossal pillar hovered just long enough to give Shepard a chance to jump clear before it hit the ground with a resounding crash, tearing parts of the wall and surrounding trees down with it. The detonator bounced as it landed on the grass.

The flash came first. A column of fire launched chunks of plating and metal out into the empty space between the Citadel’s arms. Part of the main dock on the Presidium Ring blew outward. Her heart lodged firmly in her throat, Shepard couldn’t tear her eyes away from the wreckage. Emergency mass effect field arrestors grabbed the debris. The shards of shredded steel and shattered concrete hung frozen in place. Flitting from chunk to chunk, she searched for any recognisable shape but it was too far away to tell. Her feet pounded grass, then street, then the path. Her leg couldn’t take any more and she tripped, catching herself on the bench. The taxi rank was empty. Her fingers slid over her scalp. Shepard touched a finger to her earpiece.

“Shore Party to Normandy. Respond,” she said. The answering silence was like a hammerblow to the head. “Shore Party, to… to Normandy. Respond,” she repeated. The metal bench was like ice under her hands as she waited for a response that just didn’t come. Jack arrived at her side. There was a certain peculiarity about Jack’s expression that Shepard couldn’t place at first, too focussed on listening to the empty static.

“Shepard,” she said. There was no hardness there in her eyes, no sneer on her lip, no snide mockery in her tone. Her voice sounded almost soft, like she understood. “I told your Flyboy what was up. He heard me. He’ll have got ‘em out of there. Now…” Jack trailed off and cleared her throat. “Knock it off.”

Shepard let herself down onto the bench. The surface of the water just beyond the path in front of her was as still as glass.   
  


* * *

  
  


Joker was keeping an eye on extranet feeds, one of his favourite vids on in the background. There would be no grand and dramatic rescues whilst docked at the Citadel, and so he busied himself with watching long-dead movie stars and long-obsolete fighter jets roar through the skies of Earth for the umpteenth time. Movement on the dock outside caught his eye. Several asari in yellow armour walked past together, then fanned out. Their shapely figures as they walked drew his attention. Yellow and blue looked nice together, it had to be said. As the asari looked down over the railing, one of them bent over. Nice. 

The extranet didn’t have much to say about the asari Councillor’s daughter, and even less about the owner of the café. There were a few reviews written about the place, but nothing to call Shepard about. He scrolled past a picture of the little café with the yellow awning.  _ Kinda the same shade as their armour out there, _ he thought. One of the women out on the dock looked sort of like the angry waitress. It was more than a little creepy to think the asari with the sample tray was actually some kind of serial human attacker.  _ But,  _ he wasn’t going to let  _ that  _ ruin his memory of the sun-streaked afternoon. If he thought about it hard enough, the cool breeze against his skin and the tingling excitement of Shepard’s fingers running up his thigh returned. The memory lingered, as did the one of her curves catching the sunlight. What he wouldn’t give to be back there with her - sans the pissy waitress, of course. 

Grainy images of a jet passing through clouds on the right-hand monitor made him think back to flight school. Shepard would have watched this same vid with her squad on her first night, just like he did with his. The first and last of the social activities he’d ever done in flight school. Watching  _ Top Gun _ was  _ tradition,  _ dammit. 

On the Citadel bench with her head resting on his shoulder, Shepard  _ had  _ agreed they both belonged up there in the skies and stars… Maybe one day, he would ask her to watch this with him. More than a  _ little  _ sentimental, perhaps, but still… He couldn’t get away from the somewhat guilty pleasure of imagining flying the ship together. Sure, being a full-time pilot wasn’t the path she had taken in the end, but people literally wrote poetry and stuff about the idea of sharing the heavens with someone else.  _ He  _ could actually  _ do  _ it… He glanced off at the copilot’s seat and in his mind she was there, winking back at him. Nice.

A comms alert came through his earpiece. It wasn’t the Shore Party; the signal was coded as personal.  _ Weird, _ he thought, but patched it through anyway. “Greasy Jeff’s Meat Delivery,” he said.  _ That  _ usually got the idiots to hang up.

_ “Flyboy,” _ came the voice.  _ Only one person calls me that. _ He rolled his eyes. _ Wait. _

“Jack? Why aren’t you on our network?”

_ “No time, shut up and listen,” _ she replied, her tone grabbing his attention.  _ “Blue bitch has a detonator. Says she’s gonna blow you up. Dunno if the bombs are on the ship or in the dock, but you’d better move your ass, right the fuck now. Shit’s gone sideways.” _

Joker sat bolt upright and in the same movement collapsed everything on the displays he’d been looking at. The steerage array surrounded and mapped to his hand and with the other, he tapped an emergency code into his transponder. “EDI, hull weight discrepancy?” he asked and checked the rear cameras.

“None found.”

“Power draw?”

“Normal. I have routed thrusters through auxiliary systems as a precaution.”

He slapped the emergency docking release and the hull shook as clamps lifted. By dipping the heel of his hand, the ship sailed back, up and away like a kite set off into a strong wind. Three oncoming vessels lurched and rolled as they got out of his way. His comms blared hails, but only one was important.

“Presidium ATC, SSV Normandy, suspected explosive, Bay Nine!” There was no time to repeat. The blinding flash was muted by the cockpit’s blast shield, but the bay that should have been just a few hundred meters below was right in his face again and splitting apart. The Normandy’s kinetic barrier initialised, crumpling a few fragments of wreckage. Only when the spinning chunks of what had just been the dock shrank in his field of view again did he cut thrusters. 

“Jack?” He asked but the line was dead. In fact, so was the whole damn array. At least in-ship was working. “Hey Donnelly, I need comms back like  _ yesterday _ ,” he said. The clunking of metal and fizzing of electricity in his earpiece told him the Engineer was already attacking the issue. Joker sighed.  _ It’ll be fine, I said. She’s going to a literal police station to look at some files, I said. We’re at the Citadel, it’s not like I’ll have to move in a hurry, I said. _ Everyone’s green reports rolled in on his screen.

_ “There’s a great big fuckoff bit o’ metal in the central array, I’m gonny have to replace the ‘ole thing, keep yer pants on,” _ Kenneth replied.

“Inside or outside module?” Joker asked anxiously, hating every second that light on his console stayed dead.

_ “Inside. There wasn't a breach, but something hit us good an’ proper, like. A chunk o’ metal ended up wedged in it - Listen man, makin’ me explain it won’t get it fixed any faster. I’m on it.”  _

Standard procedure dictated that nobody move, and all ships hung frozen where they were. With the bits of his former docking bay still in place, Joker trusted nothing however, and stayed tense. The other ships’ positional indicators burned into his unblinking eyes.

Off in the distance and half obscured by the bulk of a frigate, the precision thrusters under the wings of a midsized fighter flashed blue. It slid about, its nose creeping around and up.  _ He’s trying to make it look like he’s just spinning in zero gee… yeah. I see you. _

Whoever they were, this pilot was clever; they tried to use the relative angle of their ship’s hull to disguise the hatch opening just in front of its landing gear. He rolled just as a barrage of machine gun fire ripped towards him. He did a double take; recognised the firing pattern. “How’s a  _ fighter  _ outfitted with one of  _ these _ !?” he exclaimed. 

Batarian Iudex Anti-Aircraft Guns were something he’d expect to see on a cruiser. Each colossal round the length of a human forearm, it would overwhelm his kinetic barriers and shred hull in record time. With comms down, there wasn’t anything he could do but dance with the ship spraying death at his heels.

An asari dreadnought loomed before him. He braked hard; flattened out against it to fake out the pilot behind him. Unlike the city below, the broad sides of the kilometre-long ship could afford to soak up damage and Joker chose to wind around its contours, skimming along just meters from its hull. If the gargantuan vessel activated its own kinetic shielding, the Normandy would be protected behind dual layers, and no punk in a souped-up fighter was going to get through  _ that _ .

“EDI, change the transponder code. Set it to seven-six-zero-zero, let ‘em know we’re deaf, here!”

“Cycling between emergency and comms down codes,” EDI replied.

“Good.”

Seconds passed and as he rounded the lip of the dreadnought’s colossal cannon aperture, other vessels’ thrusters glowed to life. A few moved in closer, but he couldn’t afford to keep his eyes on them for long. Joker knew they would be thinking the same thing he was.  _ It’s too risky to fire in here. _ The metropolis on each arm surrounding them wasn’t stopping this maniac, however. He grit his teeth. Once he rounded the other side of the dreadnought it was a straight shot out towards open space. If he could just make it there, the serious punch this asshole was packing wouldn’t amount to much in the face of his Thanix Cannon.

The pilot behind him was dogged, zipping after him with a single-mindedness that in another context Joker might’ve found impressive. The enemy wasn’t willing to come as close as he was to the warship, but time was running out for his little extra shield plan. The easiest solution of hiding like a tiny chick behind mother hen wasn’t going to work; for whatever reason they weren’t putting their barriers up. Joker did some quick math. He tore up and away toward the void.  _ Come get me, then. _

Serpentining around lines of bullets, he winced as a near miss set off the proximity alarm. A few ships closed gaps behind him in an effort to make it harder for the fighter to keep right on his tail. The thing was manoeuvrable, but so was he. The Citadel’s four arms drew back overhead and its clouds thinned out. Stars emerged from the blue mists. He cut thrusters and his assailant shot ahead, right into his sights.  _ Oldest trick in the book, _ he grumbled to himself.  _ You might be good at playing chase, but you’re a lousy combat pilot. _

“All that time spent calibrating better have been good for something,” he muttered aloud as the Thanix Cannon came online. The enemy pilot’s pattern became erratic as they tried to shake him, keep him from getting a lock. The little ship sprayed chaff in an apparent bid to fool his auto-targeting systems. His auto-targeting systems _ he wasn’t using _ . He grinned.

A Thanix beam lanced forward, blowing their starboard thruster apart like wet paper. The cannon’s indirect hit was intentional and precise. There’d be no meat popsicles today; not unless Shepard ordered him to make some. As their ship‘s engine sputtered and died, two turian vessels in C-Sec livery flanked him on either side. 

“Pfft, nice of you to show up,” he snorted.

_ “SSV Normandy, we have orders to escort you back to Citadel airspace. You are to follow ATC instructions and remand yourself into custody immediately. We will contact your commanding officer.” _

“Oh yeah? You gonna put me in a bay  _ without _ a bunch of bombs in it this time?”  _ At least the phones are working, _ he grumbled inwardly. “And what about this idiot? If I’m getting arrested, they’d better be, too.” Joker was complaining just for the sake of it. He stowed the Normandy’s hardpoints and turned in a slow, smooth arc, predictable for his escorts and aimed towards the Citadel. 

_ “A rescue team is enroute to them. Look, I know this is inconvenient but we have to follow SOP here. Just play along and you’ll be out before dinner time.” _

“Uh-huh. I’ve heard that before,” he muttered under his breath and stabbed the mute button on outgoing comms.

* * *

The dismal hum of static in her earpiece was a quiet form of torture. The surface of the little lake before her rippled in the breeze. Transports were all grounded. Nothing moved in the aftermath of the explosion, its grim fragments still hanging in the corridor between the city’s arms. Jack sat next to her, elbows draped over the slatted back of the bench, occasionally glancing in her direction. Shepard had one hand to her temple, and massaged it weakly. Focussing on anything other than the wreckage in the sky was impossible and she let out yet another sigh. 

“Two badass bald bitches, pissed off at everything the galaxy’s taken from them. Sounds like the setup to a vid,” said Jack with a shake of her head.

Shepard almost didn’t hear her at first. “What?” She croaked, her voice hoarse with stress.

“I used to think you were just full of shit, Shepard. I didn’t think you actually gave a fuck about anyone and your whole helpful act was just an act.” Jack leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Just another bitch with a silver spoon in her mouth, looking for glory, or whatever.”

“I don’t know… “ Shepard managed. She sat in silence for some time before she lifted her face out of her palm to say, “Maybe I am, sometimes. I don’t know what I was thinking when I pushed that guy - Lehyra’s husband, out that window. I don’t know what’s worse, that or the fact I barely remember doing it.”

“Bullshit,” spat Jack. “I’ll tell you what you were thinking. You were  _ pissed off _ , at all the shit you had to get through just to wake up that morning. Don’t cry for that prick. Him or his psycho wife. It’s better not to think of them like people, because with the shit they’ve done, they don’t deserve sympathy.”

“But they  _ are _ people.”

“These fucks just tried to blow up all your friends  _ and  _ your boy toy, and you sit here arguing for them?” Jack crossed her arms and looked at Shepard sideways. “I take it back, I don’t get you.”

Despite her aching leg, probably cracked rib, a bruise on her cheek and the madness of it all, Shepard smiled. It was a bitter one. “Well, it’s worse that they’re people, Jack.”

“Huh?”

“If you forget that they’re people, it becomes easy to forget that people aren’t just good or bad, they’re whole. Complete. Parts of both. Everybody is capable of doing both, and that’s worse, to me.” The debris in the sky slowly pulled toward the Presidium’s inner ring, dragged by a mass effect field. Shepard squinted at the dots far above. No familiar silhouettes. “Yeah… I help people. I care about them. I go out of my way for what I think the greater good is. But I also pushed that woman’s husband out a window because he wouldn’t tell me what I wanted to know, and I was mad.” She sighed. “And  _ her _ ,” she continued, gesturing off down the path to where Lehyra lay out of sight under Garrus’ watch, “She just wanted to bake treats for people and serve them colourful teas. She loved her husband, enough to be broken by it when he died. It doesn’t make what she’s done any better, but it’s still  _ there  _ about her. The way I see it… either  _ everyone’s _ worth mourning, or  _ nobody  _ is.” There was a bit of red in Shepard’s hand when she coughed, and she groaned; one of her ribs  _ definitely  _ hurt. 

Jack stared at her for a few seconds. “Yeah, don’t go telling the turian all that. His head might explode. That guy lives his life like it’s a comic book.”

Garrus. Shepard saw the moment she grabbed for the detonator over again. His shot was well-placed, but badly timed - his bullet had made Shepard’s grab for the detonator miss. The situation might have been avoided if he had waited. She cleared her throat. “Well… Garrus is figuring a lot of things out. He has been since I met him. Like I said… everyone’s complicated.”

The empty spot on the bench to her right made Shepard’s heart ache on top of everything else. She pictured Joker in his dad’s old jacket, folding a tinfoil bird.  _ Everyone's complicated, except him,  _ she thought.  _ He’s just good all the way through. _

Her forearm buzzed and glowed with a call from C-Sec, according to the display.

_ “Is this Shepard?” _ asked a familiar voice. 

Her stomach tensed. “Yes. Hello, Sergeant Bailey,” she said quietly. She felt Jack’s eyes on her. 

_ “You’ll forgive me if I don’t have time for pleasantries. The whole damn place is a mess,” _ he said. His voice was tired and stressed, even more so than usual. He sighed. _ “I’ve sent some units to come and deal with the firefight I hear you’ve been involved in. Once they get there, do me a favour. Come down here. I need your Spectre signature to get him out of the pound, and your pilot won’t stop his damned yapping.” _

“My crew’s okay? He’s okay?”

_ “Well, I can safely say his vocal cords are working just fine.” _

* * *

  
  


Her footsteps clicked loudly on C-Sec’s polished floor as she rounded the corner to the holding cells. Shepard looked like hell. A bruise darkened her cheek and she was pressing her hand to her ribs, but she brightened up with a smile, albeit a pained one. He tapped his cap.

“So… how was  _ your  _ day?” he asked.

She just kept smiling, closed her eyes and shook her head. It looked almost like she was going to collapse against the glass for a second there, but she stood up straighter. “All in a day’s work. Garrus tells me everyone else is already back onboard. They were pretty quick to give me back my ship, but not my pilot… did you hear how many charges they wanted to bring against you?”

“Eh, I’m not surprised. I bet it’s hard to handle my levels of brilliance and heroism,” he said witha shrug, and was pleased to catch her smile for a second time. “Did you find out who was in the other ship? They wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“Friends of that waitress,” she said. “It’s… a long story. I’ll tell you in the cab.” 


	15. Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You don't gotta toughen up, buttercup... you gotta loosen up, buttercup. It's okay to love the things you love.  
> Who knows what lies beyond the red relay... Best prepare, body and soul.

Shepard jerked awake. Her groan of exasperation was loud inside the covers she pulled up over her head. For the third time that night she sat up, hands clasped around her own shoulders. Nothing but the low rumble of the ship and her own breathing filled her ears. The floor was cold under her feet. Shepard got dressed. As she pulled on an undershirt and slid her hoodie on over her shoulders, she paused to watch the fish in the aquarium. Her favourite was an eel-like creature. Its colourful ribbon of a body slowly wound through the plants. 

She touched her hand to the glass. “I wish I was more like you,” she said. The eel’s round, lidless eyes stared back at her. “All you worry about is your next meal, and since Kelly comes up here now, even that’s not much of a concern anymore.” She reached up and scattered some freeze-dried food on the surface of the water. The fish all rose up to the gleaming surface. They had no dreams to suffer from, or for.

The cargo bay was a change of scenery, albeit a little bland. But, perhaps bland was good. Nobody tended to lurk around it much at night which made it the perfect place to pace. Shepard’s nervous energy drove her into doing countless laps. There was little point in counting them anyway; she only wanted to tire herself out. Make it so her brain would stop its demented show reel every time she closed her eyes. The Reaper IFF box was out there, waiting. Perhaps getting that would be the catalyst to a dreamless sleep.

The hiss of the elevator door opening stopped her mid-step. Garrus stepped out. His three-fingered hands stroked up and down the long bladed fringe atop his head. At the sight of him, she grit her teeth. She didn’t want to be annoyed with him, but his initiative in taking the shot at Lehyra could have cost them all.  _ Would  _ have, if Jack hadn’t been so on the ball.

Upon spotting her, Garrus lifted his head in surprise. “Oh, Shepard,” he said, straightening up in surprise. “I, uh, didn’t expect you to be here.”

“Hello,” she said through pursed lips. “What are you doing, skulking around the cargo bay at this hour?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said as he came to a stop a few feet in front of her. He looked to the floor, his mandibles parted in a weary smile.

“It’s  _ my _ ship,” she said with a sigh and crossed her arms. They stood in silence for a moment. Garrus’ deep-set blue eyes were dilated wide and the rumble that issued from high in his throat hinted at some extreme stress. Shepard caught herself standing stiff, leaning forward, teeth clenched. She must’ve looked ready to lunge at him, and with a deliberate shake of her shoulders, she made an effort to dial it back a little.

The noise in his throat quieted. “How about this… I’ll tell you my thing if you tell me yours.”

“Okay, that sounds like a fair compromise,” she said. “Shoot.”

“I’m here because…” he looked up, with the plates on his forehead pulled together. “I keep having  _ dreams _ .” He shook his head and waved his hand. “It’s not realistic, I know, and this might sound strange to you because… they’re not  _ targeting  _ quarians, but…” he trailed off, seeming at a loss between expressing himself and downplaying it all. “I keep dreaming about seeing Tali’s face mask in one of those pods we saw.”

“The Collector’s ship, huh? That’s… strange. Go on.”

“Sometimes it’s that. Sometimes it’s her suit getting punctured by one of those things. Spirits know what horrors they’re covered in. It’s not like I can headshot a virus, I mean… she’d probably die in less than a minute.”

“Probably,” nodded Shepard.

“Was that meant to help?” he asked, his hard tone catching her by surprise.

“Garrus, you know me,” she said. She shook her head. “I’m not big on sugar-coating. There’s not much I can say to that,” Shepard said with a shake of her head. “What  _ can  _ I say?  _ Don’t worry, it’ll never happen? _ ” The disappointment and fear in his eyes made her sigh. “You know as well as I do that those fears  _ make sense, _ and that’s the worst thing about them. They’re more than just nightmares.” Her head throbbed, and rubbing her temples did next to nothing. “That’s why we're not able to just roll over and go back to sleep.”

“We?” Garrus tilted his head, a new noise low in his long throat. It took a while to place it, but the strangled rumbling sounds he was making reminded Shepard of a cat, purring. Cats sometimes purred when stressed or in pain; she wondered if turians were the same. “That's why you’re here?” he asked. “I’m not the only one being kept up at night?”

“No, mine are pretty awful, too.”

“I told you mine,” he said.

“There was a corpse on that Collector ship that looked a lot like Joker. I can’t forget it,” she said. “I get dreams where they either shove him into one of those things, or they…” She closed her eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”

Garrus nodded. The silence between them felt different somehow. He tilted his head. “I remember you staring at those people for a while.”

“I wish I hadn’t. We almost lost the Normandy today,” she said stiffly. “I was trying to grab the thing in her hand when you took your shot. We would’ve lost everyone.”

He paused for some time and looked at the floor, somewhere off to the side. “I know.” He cleared his throat. “I was thinking about that earlier. I didn’t take that shot lightly. I…” His eyes met hers for a moment. “I would have lost Tali today, too.” The turian looked tired. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but his metallic carapace didn’t hold its lustre like usual. He looked flat, dull almost.

“I don’t know what I would’ve done,” said Shepard. “To tell you the truth, Garrus, I feel like I have a bone to pick with you over it, but I think I’m too tired to be angry right now.”

“I know you do,” he said, his brow plates raised. “Maybe it’s a strange thing to say… but I’m glad you’re too tired.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m not  _ that  _ tired. Speaking of strange things to say… I sometimes feel like your initiative is a good thing that I’m getting in the way of,” she said. “I worry that I’m holding you back.”

Garrus’ mandibles fluttered. His pupils contracted into pinpoints. “ _ I _ don’t think so.”

“You did a good job leading those men on Omega. You focus a lot on how it ended, but… you forget, my first squad were all eaten by a Thresher Maw. My failure on Akuze galvanised me. Taught me to take charge properly,” she said. “At times, I wonder if I’m keeping you from doing the same.”

The tall turian shifted his weight. From the way he held his head, he looked as though he was again caught in a conflict between thoughts and words. Garrus’ eyes dilated once more. “Sometimes, I dream that you get carried off by a swarm of those bug things,” he said as his gaze lowered to the floor. “It’s… hard to put into words.”

Shepard nodded. The prospect wasn’t pretty. “I see.”

“Tali and I both have had that same nightmare.” Garrus hesitated, his eyes flicking as he studied her face. “Shepard… I don’t try so hard to protect you and Tali because I think you’re incapable,” he said, and his shoulders drooped. “I try because I care. The only way I  _ do  _ manage to get back to sleep after one of these little episodes, aside from  _ skulking around _ for a while, as you put it… is remembering that you’re in charge. You’re the one calling the shots, and you’re our best hope against everything out there.” He looked off to the side, his mandibles vibrating. “I took that shot when I did because… I was scared that if I didn’t, you wouldn’t be here anymore to call the shots yourself.”

She touched his arm. “You know I’ll do my best.”

His long fingers rested atop her hand. “I know. That’s why it doesn’t matter what they throw at us.”

They stood for a moment with his fingers curled around her hand. Purring rose up again from somewhere deep in Garrus’ chest, its particular timbre unfamiliar. His eyes were the easiest features of his face to read, and were full of such softness and sincerity that she had to look away.

“You and Tali must be close if you’re sharing dreams,” she said. “Even if they’re bad ones.”

He showed his long teeth in a grin. “You and Joker must be close if you’re going to cafés. Even if they’re also bad ones,” he said with a soft chuckle. Shepard resisted her instinct to pull away when Garrus squeezed her shoulder, and allowed the touch a little while. “I just wish we all had a chance to do things like that more often. I know Tali wants to go places other than the Main Battery and the Engine Room sometimes.”

“Anywhere you have in mind?”

“I… want to take her to the physical set where the  _ Fleet and Flotilla _ series is shot. She’s crazy about that show,” he said as his mandibles flexed with a laugh. “I wasn’t so sure about the standalone vid, but the series is alright. I figure I could name drop you to get her and I up there… With everything going on, who knows how long it’ll be around for.”

“You gonna do the pose?” she asked with a grin. “Tell me you’re going to do the pose and get someone to take a Holo.”

“Are you volunteering?” he asked. “It would be easier to name drop you if you were actually there.”

“I don’t think you want  _ me  _ as your third wheel, Garrus,” she laughed.

“Bring Joker.”

Shepard smiled, closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’ve never seen Tali’s face before, but somehow I can imagine  _ exactly  _ what expression she’d pull.”

“Oh, I’ll tell you something you apparently didn’t know about Joker,” he said. “He’s a  _ fan _ .”

“Of  _ Fleet and Flotilla _ ? Joker?” Shepard covered her smile of disbelief.

“When we first started playing poker down here, those two would sit next to each other and make constant in-jokes about it. It got  _ so annoying _ that I watched the whole thing just so that I could understand what they were saying.” His rasping laughter made Shepard’s stiff shoulders relax and her aching leg somehow not hurt as bad. “Then I ended up enjoying it. I used to wonder why none of that ever set off Jack, but I guess it makes sense now.”

She pictured Jack curled up in her room in the hold, watching the romance drama unfold, face lit up with a smile she would never let anyone see. “I should thank her,” mused Shepard. “She really had our backs today.”

“She did.”

“I think I’m going to try and get back to sleep.” Shepard straightened up and lifted her head high. “Prepare yourself, we’re going to go for that IFF… Once we have it, it’ll take some time to figure out what to do with it. Maybe we can give Joker and Tali something to look forward to, huh?”

“I’m only too glad to end my skulking around a little earlier than I thought.” The turian stood a little taller himself, which was saying something given that he towered over the somewhat petite Shepard. “Don’t let the Collectors nip you, I think the adage goes… Pleasant dreams, Shepard.”

“No dreams at all, Garrus.”

“Mmm… yes. No dreams.”

* * *

  
  


Grunt waited in front of the airlock doors. To his right, the orange light of the dying star Mnemosyne filled the cockpit. Out past Joker’s seat, winds whipped clouds into thick streams of gas. The Normandy shook everywhere and it was hard to stand. Shepard talked to her mate for a moment, holding the back of his seat for balance. Grunt couldn’t hear what she was saying, but the ship stabilised.

“What just happened?” Shepard asked.

“The Reaper’s mass effect field is still active. We just passed inside their envelope,” Joker replied.

Its machine corpse looked like a Charrdokah Tick with holes in it. Shepard looked back at him like she expected something. She smelled spicy, like she always did when near her mate, but also like determination. A little like coffee, too.

“How old did the Cerberus scientists say it is?” he asked her. Grunt liked the idea of getting onboard a dead Reaper. He could see how it worked, find out good ways to break it from the inside and his three-fingered hands flexed at the thought. Warlord Padresha Banadar’s memories lived inside him as if they were his own. When he closed his eyes, Grunt stood in her armour. Her delight when tearing apart the salarian-made machines flowed through him, and he grinned. Nothing like a Reaper could ever  _ die, _ but if he punched it in the right place hard enough, maybe it would learn how.

“They don’t know exactly. The datafile I got said they estimated it’s been hanging out there for millions of years.  _ Millions _ .”

“Hmm,” he muttered in reply. “Something fish-like is happening.” Shepard did something with her eyebrows. She liked it when he used human expressions. Shepard gestured for him and Garrus to follow close behind as she went through the airlock doors.

The stink of blood was a little muted because of the low temperature. A thin layer of frost covered the walls, like on the Collector’s Ship. The place seemed in pretty good condition except for the decapitated guy near the airlock. Shepard moved from station to station and took time to listen to records left by the scientists. Grunt became preoccupied with a high-pitched whine that vibrated in the walls and his skull. He shuddered. The noise made his spine tingle in a way he hated. As they approached a door at the far end of the lobby, the sound intensified. The floor rumbled and shook as the door retracted. The stench of rot billowed in. Grunt flexed his arms and lowered his head. Underneath the smell of decay, he detected the pungence of desiccated husks somewhere out there, probably hiding on the catwalk they stepped out onto. Shepard talked on her earpiece to what sounded like Joker, but out of every few words spoken, it seemed like one was missing or backwards. He tapped the device sitting just inside the opening of his ear canal. Every now and then, his translator malfunctioned in this way.  _ Maybe I need a new one? Anyway.  _ Grunt busied himself with scanning the horizon for signs of movement. Whatever the bigger plan was, his was to stick close.  _ It’s weird we can breathe inside a Reaper. I guess Cerberus has been here for a long time? _

Groaning and wails split the air.

“Here they come!” he roared.

The platforms crawled with husks. Grunt plowed through them, bellowing in rage as they bounced off his armour, were crushed beneath his feet and blown apart with his shotgun. Shepard pushed on ahead. When he could spare a moment, he admired the precision and purpose behind the way she lifted the scope to her eye. She wasted no time, never hesitated as they made their way through hordes of the screaming, groaning things. She didn’t miss a single shot, and one by one, a row of advancing monsters had their heads explode. Shepard’s armour glinted black and green as she lowered her rifle and charged forward. His chest swelled with pride. One day he would be just like her, only a lot taller. 

Garrus hung back. The turian spent most of his time with his tiny eye up to the scope, very unlike Shepard. Having such a small field of view must make it difficult to see the expressions of his prey.  _ How boring is that? _ As husk after husk fell at a distance, Grunt flexed his arms and stamped his feet, waiting for the next wave. Maybe Garrus’ technique had something to do with his being so uptight all the time. How could he get relief from all the rage coursing through his veins without seeing the fear reflected in his prey’s eyes? There was such a thing as being  _ too  _ efficient. Grunt’s scales itched with the need to ram into something, but there were no enemies left. He launched into a sprint, following close behind Shepard, whose abrupt stop almost made him trip. She made herself small, her back against a stack of barrels, and peeked over the top.

“How many is that for you, Garrus?” She asked, her teeth bared. No, not bared -  _ smiling _ , he reminded himself. Humans had such rubbery faces and it was hard to remember what all the different shapes meant sometimes.

_ “Twenty-three,” _ came his reply over the earpiece.

“Oh yeah? Feeling a little bloated from breakfast still? I’m at thirty-four already, c’mon, get with it.”

“Stop taking them down so fast, I have nothing to do,” grumbled Grunt.

Shepard jerked her head toward the far platform, where pale hands were clawing at the lip of the catwalk. A sensation like sweet fire set his blood alight and every nerve flared to tingling life with the need to stomp, crush, rip and tear. He thundered towards the enemy, anticipation screaming in every muscle.

A husk exploded in a shower of thick black fluid.

_ “Thirty-five!” _ Shepard crowed.

_ “Your sloppy shots may have taken out a few more, but I’m more precise. That should count for more points.” _ There was a sour note in Garrus’ voice and Grunt laughed even as he hurled a writhing husk far below them.

_ “What’s it matter how precise you are, if I end up getting more?”  _ She teased.

_ “Oh, call me when you get three off of one ricochet. Everyone knows the head is harder to get,”  _ said Garrus. The turian was such a snob, but he had a point.

“Yeah, that is true. Garrus gets more head,” said Grunt as he jammed a fresh thermal clip into his shotgun. Neither clan nor  _ krantt _ had anything to say for an unusual amount of time. Grunt paused to rub the side of his head against his pauldron, trying to adjust his earpiece.

_ “...Well, I don’t know, Garrus. Do you?” _ Shepard cackled.

_ “Sadly, and it isn’t Tali’s fault, but I think out of the two of us you’re actually likely to get more.” _

“That doesn’t make any sense. Garrus gets more head. Shepard gets more centre-of-mass.”

_ “Hmm,”  _ Garrus replied sceptically. “ _ Does Joker know how to give ‘centre-of-mass,’ Shepard? Or have you not had the time to find out?” _

Grunt all but jammed his finger in his earhole. Those damn implants were so small.

_ “I am listening, just so you know,” _ Joker’s voice chimed in.  _ “Never question a man’s ability to give centre-of-mass, Garrus. Some cultures consider that an act of war.” _

“Can I get a new earpiece?” asked Grunt.

_ “I’ll look into it for ya, big guy,” _ said Joker, followed by the sound of his mic flicking off.

Shepard stepped through an airlock-styled door at the end of a hallway and motioned for him to follow close behind. A dark rectangle lay on the floor, wires sticking out of it at weird angles. Shepard held up her fist, and he stopped in his tracks.

“Is that what we’re looking for?” he asked. Shepard bent down, passing her Omnitool over it and tapping away at her arm. “Maybe we should have brought Tali along… she knows about technology.”

“ _ I _ know about technology,  _ too _ , Grunt,” she said over her shoulder as she fussed with the metal slab’s connectors. One by one, wires sparked as they disconnected from the device. “It looks like some of the people here were trying to figure this thing out.” Shepard brushed at its surface, etched with designs of some kind. “Here,” she said, handing the heavy block to him. “Keep hold of this. Let’s get to that field generator. We’re going to need to get out of here quick when it goes down, and I don’t want to be lugging that around.”

Grunt stomped the ground in acknowledgement and tucked it under his arm. A missed shot sparked off the metal flooring in front of them. It wasn’t like Garrus to miss.

  
  


“What is a  _ geth  _ doing here?” asked the turian, looking up from his scope in surprise. Grunt peered into the distance. The hose-like neck of the geth split apart like the mouth of a Thresher. It pulled back from its own scope too, and ran off somewhere ahead. Studying Shepard for signs of a reaction and seeing nothing, Grunt fell in behind her again. Geth were less fun to tear apart, but still fun.

“I don’t know, but it stole your target,” Shepard said at last as she broke into a run. “Eyes up, Garrus. It’s got a nicer rifle than you.” As she ran on ahead, a weird electrical sound came out of her armour as Shepard faded into the background. Light bent around her, and she seemed to vanish before his eyes. He  _ hated  _ it when she did that; it made following behind her a real chore. Some ways off, her crouched figure reappeared behind a metal panel of some kind.  _ “Looks clear from here… but you know how these things usually go. I’m betting it’s some kind of ambush.” _

_ “Generally when you make a bet there needs to be some chance of it going the other way,” _ Garrus said with a dry laugh.

Despite being millions of years old, the Reaper’s mass effect core looked strangely a lot like all the other technology Grunt was familiar with. As his clenched fist sunk into the softened skull of a groaning husk, he wondered at how a machine so old could work so well even after such a long time.  _ Did the scientists clean any of this? Fix any of it? _ The device suspending the mass effect field looked a lot like a relay, but small.

“I’m stepping through now… Remember, as soon as this thing loses stability, we run,” instructed Shepard.

All hell broke loose.

* * *

“It’s your call, Shepard,” said Jacob with a restrained sigh. “But I think this thing is bad news. I won’t tell you what to do, but I think it’s a security risk.” 

Miranda, however, didn’t hold her own sigh back, pacing on the other side of the table like a leopard. “Yes, it is,” she conceded. “It is also your decision, Commander. I don’t like it.”

“It’s completely inert. I had a quick look at it in the airlock earlier. Its power supply and main CPU are completely disengaged. The thing’s onboard  _ clock  _ isn’t even working, let alone anything else,” Shepard reasoned. “It’ll sit in the AI Core until I decide what to do with it.”

Jacob nodded, the set of his jaw relaxing as he looked down at the centre of the table. “If you say it’s not a threat, then I believe you.”

Looking from him and back to Shepard, Miranda’s doubtful look persisted for a few seconds longer. “I maintain that Cerberus would get a lot out of examining it, but if you think it’s safe.”

“Thank you. Until that IFF is installed, it’s business as usual, more or less, and I understand the device is going to take some time to figure out,” Shepard declared, pushing away from the table. “In the interest of efficiency, I want you two to devise a two-pronged training exercise for the entire crew. I don’t know what we’re going to run into on the other side of that relay, but I want us all to be sharp when that time comes.”

Miranda tilted her head, intrigued. “What did you have in mind, Commander?”

“I want you to find us some kind of derelict station we can rig up with defense drones. Something to get everybody moving. I’m sure Cerberus has a few of those tucked up their sleeves that will suit our purposes just fine,” she said as she folded her arms behind her back. “I want everyone whose boots might touch the ground on the other side to be there, and that includes the both of you,” she said.

“It’ll be done, Commander,” Miranda replied. 

“As for the crew remaining up here…” Shepard paused, jutting her jaw in thought. “I want to put the  _ Normandy _ through her paces. Set up some defenses in an asteroid belt. Something that paints targets with a similar time-to-impact as a Thanix Cannon… With all these improvements we’ve got over time, I think she’s due for a combat-level shakedown.”

“This’ll take some time to organise, but I’ll keep you posted,” said Jacob.

“I know you will,” she replied with a curt nod.

_ Neither of them like the idea of activating this geth, _ she thought to herself as she turned on her heel to leave. Miranda’s officiousness had not gone unnoticed by Shepard, and from the way Jacob looked at the woman, it hadn’t passed him by, either.  _ At least Jacob acknowledged activating it is my call to make. It’s too useful an opportunity to waste, and like hell am I just giving it to Cerberus technicians. _ She straightened up as she passed by several crewmen in the hall. Doubtless, Garrus was already telling Tali all about it. In fact at some point, Shepard was fairly certain she heard some kind of screech emanating from below her feet - but, maybe it was just her imagination.  _ I suppose I’ll have to face the quarian music sooner or later. _

The first order of business was some form of pick-me-up. Chattering regulars stood in the corner of the Mess and as Shepard passed by them to attend to her socially acceptable caffeine addiction, the orange glow of her Omnitool caught her eye.

_ From: Moreau, J _

_ Subj: Should I cycle the airlock codes? _

_ Body: There’s a geth onboard? On a scale of 1 to spontaneous suit decompression, how mad is she? _

Shepard poured herself a mug full of the steaming black coffee and went to sit down.

_ To: Moreau, J _

_ Subj: RE: Should I cycle the airlock codes? _

_ Body: I haven’t been down there yet. I’m in the Mess, delaying the inevitable. Bringing a peace offering with me, though. Kind of. Sort of. Hopefully it’ll work? _

Whatever this blend was, it wasn’t too bad, this time. It definitely beat the last batch.

_ From: Moreau, J _

_ [CC: Department Heads] _

_ Subj: Airlock Codes _

_ Body: What’s up everyone, new primary airlock code is 0169832, don’t tell Tali. _

Her quiet chuckle seemed loud in the relatively muted atmosphere of the Mess. The geth couldn’t do anything at all, but even so.  _ I wonder how many geth I’ve personally dispatched? A hundred? Two hundred? More? I’m not worried. _ The steady vibrations of the ship almost lulled her off to sleep. It had been a  _ long  _ day, punctuated by throwing herself into the open airlock of the ship with explosions and chaos at her heels, as usual.The last mouthful was cold, and Shepard took a bleary look at the time - not that time had much meaning these days. There was really only ‘ _ off _ ’ and ‘ _ on _ ,’ anything in-between was just a set dressing.

Shepard rifled through her personal locker in search of a small lavender tin. This little ritual was one she hadn’t made time for in a while. As she filled a fresh mug with hot water and plopped a tea bag in, she rubbed at the sore muscles connecting her neck to her shoulders. They were tight, and tough as tyres. Maybe more caffeine wouldn’t strictly  _ help  _ that, but there was something to be said for a good cup of Earl Grey, anyway. Slight bustling caught her attention. Shift change was soon. Or had it already been? A mouthful of tea worked to assuage her guilt at putting off the conversation with Tali. It wasn’t so much a desire to avoid conflict as it was a desire to avoid conflict  _ in the moment.  _

Maybe twenty minutes passed as Shepard sat at the table with her mug clutched in one hand and occasionally scrolling through e-mails on her Omnitool. The harsh glow was unpleasant to look at for long.

“No wonder you never sleep. What is that, your fourth?”

Shepard grinned upon recognising Joker’s voice, a pleasant little flutter settling in her belly. “Only my second,” she replied.

His eyes rested on the little tin next to her hand. “Earl Grey, huh? You’re always drinking that stuff when you go for tea. You ever try anything different?”

“Rarely. I like it,” she said and shrugged. “Once I find something I like… I tend to stick with it, you know.”

“Oh yeah…?” He asked as he sat down across from her. “You, ah… tried anything  _ else  _ recently you wanna stick with?”

Shepard tapped on the rim of her mug. “Hmm, you know, I picked up this nice sharp blend I’m quite partial to.” She had to bite the inside of her cheek hard to keep from smirking. “Turns out I didn’t even know I had it. It just kind of appeared in my cupboard one day next to the beer. I don’t know, it could  _ definitely  _ be my new favourite, but I’ve only had it once so far.”

“So why aren’t you having it instead of that, then?”

“I would, but it’s not really the time or place, here… on the table,” she said. “Really delicious, though.”

He blinked. He squinted just one eye. “Yeah, we’re not talking about tea, are we?”

“Were we ever?” she asked, placing her mug back down. “So. I have a proposition for you.”

“Where and when?”

“I haven’t explained it yet,” she replied, keeping her voice low as she leaned forward on her elbows.

“Uh-huh,” he said, and touched the bill of his cap. “You don’t need to. Whatever it is, I’m there.” he added. “Unless it’s a dance party, then you’re on your own. Or if you want me to make speeches. Or  _ sit through _ speeches. Other than  _ that _ , though… I’m your guy.”

In another, more private place, she might have kissed him for being so sweet, but she touched her boot to his in a subtle, deliberate gesture instead. He tapped back. Joker fidgeted with the tea tin and read the label on the back. He was good at looking casual, much better than she was at it for sure, but the soft look in his eyes was still just the same as when he’d lain beside her a few nights before. A sharp, sweet aching filled her chest as she longed to feel him that way again - yet, she only rapped her fingernails on her empty mug. 

Flirting with him over tea was all very well and good, but trying to find a moment  _ alone _ with him to talk about these fireworks deep in her breast was as annoying as ever on a starship. Something was even more challenging about it now.  _ Now _ , there wasn’t even a ghost of plausible deniability. It was no longer a case of a fanciful what if or just a maybe so. Now it was a truth she shared with him, a truth she saw traces of in his easy smile.

“Normandy to Shepard, come in,” he said, softer and more sing-song than he’d ever say at the conn. She touched a finger to her nose as she cleared her throat.

“Off in my own little world for a moment. Yes. There are a few things going on right now that need time to prepare, so I thought you might help me with something. That peace offering I mentioned before in the email? I’m thinking about giving out some staggered shore leave…”

“Oh?”

“Garrus says he wants to take Tali to the  _ Fleet and Flotilla _ set.”

He chuckled. “Of course he does. I told him it was a good way to make her blow her helmet apart. You know, in a good way. Not a literal way.” 

“You wouldn’t happen to know where that is, would you?”

“That depends,” he said and grinned. “What’s in it for me?”

“Don’t be so mercenary,” she laughed. “He said it might be difficult to get in there without name-dropping me. So I offered to go along with them, and if they do  _ the pose, _ I’ll take a Holo for them,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Or maybe  _ you  _ can do that part, I don’t know. Come with me? That way I’ll have someone to talk to if he starts licking her helmet or something.”

He tried to hide his glee; adjusted the brim of his cap and gave a long look off towards Gardner’s counter, but she saw through his little too-cool act. “Eh, If you want? I’ve seen a little of it,” he said, still watching Gardner stir something in a mixing bowl.

“Hmm,” Shepard puzzled, “That’s a funny way of pronouncing, ‘I know every episode back to front.’”

“I don’t,” he said and crossed his arms. “It’s alright, it’s not my favourite or anything, though.”

“It would be fine if it was, you know,” she said, offering him a soft smile.

“Yeah. I know it would be. It isn’t, though.”

“Methinks the pilot doth protest too much,” she said, smiling just a little wider.

“Pfft. Yeah, yeah, alright, Shakespeare. Nothing gets past you,” he grumbled. “Can’t a guy just like a good story?”

“ _ I’d never have guessed _

_ Your precious, guarded secret _

_ To watch love unfold, _ ” she said, and leaned her chin in her hand.

He peered at her through narrowed eyes. “Listen, just because I can’t pull poetry out of the air like  _ you _ can doesn’t mean I’m not… kinda romantic, in my own way,” he sniffed. “And so what if I am?”

“Yes, exactly… so what if you  _ are _ ?” she echoed. The way his lip pulled to the side in a mildly embarrassed grin, how he kept his arms folded and avoided Shepard’s gaze told her a _ lot _ \- He was playing along with her, sure; but someone, somewhere, some _ when _ had given him a real rough time about the kinds of things he enjoyed. Looking at him, she was reminded a little of herself, long, long ago. It was strange that a man as accomplished as he was held on to such a silly insecurity, but then again, Joker was full of such hangups when it came to intimacy, and being a  _ pilot _ on top of it all didn’t help. Tempted at first to reach out or move to sit next to him, she restrained herself - making a big fuss about it was the last thing  _ she _ would have wanted. There’d be another way to reassure him.

“Anything interesting happen since I got back today?” she asked.

“If it did, you’d already know about it,” he said. “But, uh… we flew by an ion storm a lightyear wide,” he added, the somewhat spiky edge to his tone lessening as he spoke. “I watched the gases interact. Looked a little like… uh… oil in water, kinda?”

“A shame I didn’t get to see that,” she said. “Ion storms can make for one hell of a lightshow.”

“I took a sensor-holo if you wanna see,” he said with a shrug. “ … Ah, you know, scientists love that kinda stuff. I’m always getting emails from astrometricists and whatever… I’ll show you when you’re not busy disemboweling whoever needs it the most.”

“Tell me about it. My disemboweling arm hurts like hell,” she said with a sigh, rolling her stiff shoulders.

“I guess being a straight up monster-murdering machine has its drawbacks. Who knew?” he asked, smirking as he unfolded his arms.

“With all the noise over the geth, I didn’t get a chance to see you after I came back,” she said. “I missed being up there today.”

“Heh. Yeah? Well,  _ ‘up there’ _ missed you, too. Didn’t think it could ever feel lonely, but…”

“Ah, you just missed having someone get all your old vid references,” she said and winked at him.

“Not just that!” he said with an air of mock offense. “ … Also old song lyrics. I can’t mumble my way through ‘em with anyone else. No one else listens to the good stuff.”

“It is very good! You know… I got my taste in that from my parents” she said, squinting as she tried to pierce through her mind’s cloudy, distant fog to get at old memories. “They both used to listen to a lot of the same stuff you do… there was always music on when I was little. I used to sing along to it.”

Joker tilted his head, a look of curiosity settling over his features. “Yeah?” he asked, then paused. “So, uh. I’ve never asked before. I know they died, but… I sorta didn’t wanna make you talk about something you didn’t wanna talk about?”

“I don’t mind telling you. Well,” she began with a sigh. “They never told me what happened to her. I was around ten, I think? She died in what I think was some kind of accident.” Shepard cleared her throat and continued on. “Anyway, my dad was a shipwright. On the same day, the containment field on a ship he was working on failed. A section of the hull detached and crushed him. I know what happened to  _ him  _ because I was  _ there…  _ in the office, watching the drydock from the window.” A second or two passed in silence. Blinking, he looked across at her, his eyebrows raised. Shepard played with the fabric of her sleeve, and gave him her best good-natured smile as she added, “Well. It was a long time ago, now. Ask a sad question, get a sad answer.”

“Yeah… I don’t know what I expected.”

Shepard shrugged. “It is what it is. The memories I have of them now are few and far between. I remember a yellow kitchen with pine trees outside, sunlight through big houseplants… but most of all, that old music…” Warmth filled her chest as their eyes met. “It’s so nice having a reason to enjoy it again.”

“You don’t need a reason to enjoy good music, Shepard,” he said with an incredulous grin.

“No… that’s true. But I needed one to enjoy  _ that  _ music again. There was a time where just hearing the opening few bars of  _ Tiny Dancer _ would have me in punches.”

“In… punches? Not in tears?”

“Not back then.”

Joker looked down at the table. “Anything in particular I should avoid? Punches  _ or _ tears are actually  _ really _ bad for the equipment up there.”

She shook her head and smiled. “Mmm, no. I look forward to the next time I can lean on your chair and listen to something with you. I think it’s about time for some new memories… don’t you?” She dropped a fresh tea bag into her empty mug. “Time for my fifth, I think.”

“Ah, see, I  _ knew  _ it,” he said with a grin.

Shepard faced the counter and poured herself some fresh hot water. When she turned back around, blowing steam from her mug, she sat down next to him. He looked to either side of the Mess, and seemed satisfied with seeing only Gardner wiping down the oven top. Joker’s warm hand slid down her forearm and entwined his fingers with hers. The soreness in her shoulders melted away. She closed her eyes to enjoy the moment properly and commit the details to memory. The dull rumble of the engine, soft hiss of the air exchangers, the gentle heat and pressure of his shoulder. At the sound of the elevator doors parting open, he unwound himself from her. She took a mouthful of hot tea as if nothing had happened.

“What do you think I should do with the geth?” she asked quietly.

“I hear the airlock is lovely this time of year,” he snorted. “If I was you, I’d have done it already. Which… you know, why haven’t you?”

“It could have shot me, but it didn’t… and I don’t suppose you noticed what’s on its arm?”

“Yeah, I think VernerAfterburner probably has some stiff competition for president of the Shepard fanclub… I dunno. Maybe you  _ should  _ turn it on. Offer it your autograph or something.” He shrugged. “After all… you won’t be stood in a room with  _ it _ .  _ It’ll  _ be stood in a room with  _ you _ .” He grinned. “Just do me a favour, make sure I’m not nearby when you flick its lightswitch, okay? I’m happy with the number of holes my body currently has.”

“Hold on, let me jot that down in my Omnitool…” she said and lifted her arm, pretending to type. “Make sure Joker is right next to me when I turn on the Terminator for the first time… got it,” she said and nudged his shoulder. “Alright, next piece of advice I need from you. Real life or death stuff, here, so pay attention.” Shepard stirred her tea. “I’m not going to get much out of going to this show set with you three unless I do a little homework… Am I better off watching the vid, or the first episode of the series?”

The way he brightened up made her heart sing.

“Ah, well, if you haven’t seen any of it before, I’d probably say episode four in season three is a good place to start. Like, to jump in, I guess. Sorta a weird number I know, you might think the actual beginning would be better to start from, but the first season’s a little rough and I wouldn’t say it’s representative… The start of the third season might be confusing for you… Lotta the previous seasons’ arcs are all finished by the fourth episode though. It starts going in a new direction then, and if you like it, you can always go back and… what? What’re you grinning like that for?”

Shepard shook her head as she leaned on her elbows. “Nothing. I’m listening.”


End file.
